


The Cameras Watch the Accidents and Stars You Hate

by daniomalley



Series: The Boy with the Bread [2]
Category: Bandom, My Chemical Romance
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Alternate Universe - Fusion, F/F, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-20
Updated: 2013-04-20
Packaged: 2017-12-09 00:18:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 23,372
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/767779
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/daniomalley/pseuds/daniomalley
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After winning the Hunger Games, life was supposed to go back to normal for Gerard, Frank and their mentor Alicia. But they've made too many enemies in the Capitol, and it looks like they might be lucky to keep any sort of life at all. A fusion of Catching Fire.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Cameras Watch the Accidents and Stars You Hate

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Bandom Big Bang Wave Two 2012 and originally published on 7/11/2012. Betaed by forbiddensatan. The mix created by jokerindisguise can be viewed [here](http://daniomalley22.livejournal.com/14159.html)

Alicia didn’t like Frank Iero all that much. She respected him; admired his skill and his resilience, but most of the time, he got on her nerves. He got on her nerves when he handed over the white liquor he bought her with a pinched, judgmental look on his face. He got on her nerves when he avoided Gerard for days because he apparently didn’t know how to cope with his own crush. And he definitely got on her nerves when he chose to wake her up with the aid of a bucket of cold water.

“What the fuck!” she gasped. “You couldn’t just tap my shoulder?”

“I did. You didn’t wake up.” Frank shrugged. “You’ll have to bathe, anyway, before we leave.” He cast a look over Alicia’s grimy clothes, and she sneered at him.

“Where’s Gerard this morning?” Alicia asked sweetly. Frank scowled, and said, “He said he’d be here soon. Who knows. He’ll probably fritter the entire day away, like he’s frittered away the last four months. You know we had a chance to get out of here, to go somewhere else, but it’s too late now. We won’t get a private second to ourselves between now and the next Games.”

Alicia rolled her eyes. The boy was so dramatic. “Don’t be ridiculous,” she said. “There will still be time, after the Victory Tour. There’ll be months. And maybe Gerard has his reasons for wanting to stay.” She would bet Gerard had his reasons. That one was too idealistic to know what was good for him.

At that moment, Gerard came walking down the hallway, calling ahead of himself. “You’re exactly right Alicia, I’ve been saying that all along. We’re not out of time yet.” He stepped into the kitchen and went straight to the sink, where he rinsed out a glass and filled it from the bottle on the table.

“Are you sure you should be doing that?” Frank asked sourly.

“Yes,” Gerard answered firmly. Alicia rolled her eyes, bored with this argument which they’d already had at least a dozen times.

“Have you been out hunting, Frank?” she asked, noticing his game bag for the first time. 

“Got some rabbits,” he confirmed.

“How long were you out?” Gerard asked Frank.

“A while,” Frank answered evasively.

“A while? Has your mom even seen you since last night? She’ll be flipping out.”

Alicia doubted that was true. Frank’s mother knew that he was capable of looking after himself; she’d been relying on his ability to do just that for a lot of years. She didn’t worry about him half as much as Gerard did.

“She’ll be fine,” Frank insisted. “Mikey’s with her. She’s showing him how to make her special burn salve, or something. She probably hasn’t even noticed I’m gone.”

And maybe Frank had never quite forgiven his mother for that, either.

“Still,” Gerard insisted, “You’d better go, unless you want to get caught on camera carrying those rabbits.” Hunting outside the District fence was forbidden and carried a severe penalty, although it was never really enforced. But the Peacekeepers might make an exception for Frank, who had made some very powerful enemies in the Capitol by securing victory in last year’s Hunger Games, not just for himself, but Gerard as well.

Frank accepted Gerard’s reasoning with a scowl, and he left to go to his own home on the opposite side from Alicia’s. Gerard waited until the door closed behind him before turning to Alicia. “Do you mind if I borrow a bottle to take home?”

**********

Gerard drank a third of the bottle he got from Alicia and hid the rest in his bedside table, because his parents hated his drinking almost as much as Frank did. He was about to go for a bath so that his stylists might not actually faint when they saw him, but his plans were thwarted when Mikey crept up to his room, looking like something had scared the life out of him.

“Gerard,” he whispered. “Gerard, you won’t believe... I was at Frank’s house, and this massive car pulled up outside. The door opened, and _President Korse_ got out.”

“Don’t be stupid, Mikey,” Gerard said dismissively, because there was no way the president would ever come all the way out to District 12.

“I’m _not_!” Mikey insisted. “I’m _serious_! I saw him! His big stupid bald head and his white coat and...”

“Mikey,” Gerard said, “This isn’t a joke, is it? Because it’s not funny.”

“I’m not joking! He came into Frank’s house. Linda nearly passed out. He didn’t see me, because I was in the back room and then I sneaked out the back door when Linda took him into the study.”

“But... why is he here?” Gerard wondered. “Is it something to do with Frank?”

It was a stupid question. It had to be something to do with Frank; he’d gone to Frank’s house, hadn’t he? Mikey didn’t reply, just watched Gerard with wide, anxious eyes. 

Gerard went to the front window of their ridiculously oversized house and looked out, trying to stay concealed behind the curtain. He couldn’t see Frank’s house, but he could see the street. There was a car parked out there, an official government car, the only kind they had in District 12. If the President actually came to District 12 for some unknowable reason, he’d use one of those to get around.

The street was empty, but as Gerard watched several people began walking towards the car from the direction of Frank’s house. Two of them were dressed in what looked like Peacekeeper uniforms, although the Peacekeeper uniforms Gerard was used to seeing were cheaply made and poorly fitting, and these... weren’t. The third was a woman in a stylish but sedate outfit, carrying some kind of hi-tech notebook. Then Gerard saw the fourth person, and his jaw dropped. It _was_ President Korse. Gerard recognised him from TV. He’d seen him when he’d gone to the Games the year before as well, but never up close.

Gerard froze where he stood as the group of people got into the car and it slowly drove away, weaving around the poorly maintained street to avoid potholes. He waited until the car was out of sight, then turned back to see Mikey.

“That was President Korse!” he whispered.

“I _told_ you!” Mikey exclaimed, not bothering to lower his voice.

“Oh, fuck,” Gerard breathed. “Frank. I have to make sure he’s okay.”

He heard Mikey say that he was sure Frank was fine, and then start to say something else, but by that point Gerard was out the front door and running down the street, his breath puffing out in little clouds of mist in front of him. He reached Frank’s door and knocked twice before letting himself inside. 

Frank and his mother were standing in the kitchen, looking completely unharmed. “Frank, you’re alright!”

“Hey, Gerard, yeah, we’re fine,” Frank said firmly. “I guess you saw Korse too, huh, since he always visits the victors before they tour?” Frank tilted his head ever so slightly towards his mother, and Gerard played along.

“Oh, yeah,” he said, trying for casual. “How about that, huh? The President, in our house and everything.” Gerard forced a sickly grin onto his face.

Frank nodded. “Mom, I’m going to walk Gerard home,” he said. “He needs to start getting ready for the tour.” He took Gerard by the wrist and led him out of the house.

Outside Gerard looked over at Frank and said, “What did Korse really want?”

Frank looked up and down the street furtively before answering. “To make sure I don’t step out of line. He said people are all stirred up, he said there could be uprisings.”

“Uprisings!” Gerard said.

“Shhh! Yeah, he said that, and he said that I need to settle everything down by convincing people that... you know...”

“That you were so desperately, madly in love with me that you would have preferred to die than live without me?” Gerard asked sweetly.

Frank grimaced and shook his head. “Idiot,” he muttered. Since the Games, he and Gerard had become... not a couple, exactly. Everyone assumed they were, of course, but mostly they just hung out together a lot. They had a sort of understanding. Gerard didn’t talk about being in love with Frank, and Frank didn’t talk about not being in love with Gerard. Between the two of them, they acted like they were dating, but without the dates. They did go on dates, but those were for show. They weren’t real. The real stuff happened in private, and it involved the two of them being more than just friends, but not exactly lovers. It was complicated.

They reached the front of Gerard’s house, and he and Frank exchanged a long glance. “Mom wants me to wash up before everyone gets here,” Frank said mournfully.

“Might be a good idea,” said Gerard. “You’re all muddy from hunting.”

Frank glared at him. “You are not in a position to criticise anyone else’s hygiene, Gerard,” he said.

“Fine!” Gerard snapped. “I’ll have a bath too, if it’ll make you happy.”

“If you’re sure you won’t melt, then it would probably be best for everyone involved,” Frank retorted. He smirked cheekily and walked away before Gerard could think of a really good comeback.

“Oh, yeah, well... so’s your face!” he shouted to Frank’s retreating back.

When he went inside, he found that his mother had already drawn him a bath, probably because she didn’t trust him to do it for himself. It wasn’t that Gerard didn’t like being clean, it was just that he tended to get distracted by more interesting things. He went to his room to get clean clothes and found the new brush he’d made from fine horsehair. He hadn’t had a chance to use it yet, but he suddenly remembered the sight of Korse standing next to the government car, and thought about how he would get the image onto canvas. He was just about to take his new brush down to the cellar to try it out when his mother appeared in the doorway.

“Go wash up before the water gets cold,” she said. That was one of the nicest things about the new house; hot running water.

“I’m going to,” Gerard said. “In a minute. I just want to try...”

“Now,” his mother insisted, plucking the brush out of his hand. Thus thwarted, Gerard went along to have his bath and ensure that Patrick wasn’t appalled at the sight of him. 

It was another hour before Gerard heard the sound of cars pulling up outside. He had a moment of panic where he worried that Korse was coming back to finish Frank off, but he knew that was illogical. It was just Pete and Patrick, and a camera crew, come to make sure Frank had appropriate clothes to wear for the Victory Tour and that Gerard had at least washed the paint out of his hair, and that the whole of Panem got a chance to see them get dressed up.

Gerard went out the front door. The cameras were already rolling. He tried to ignore them and focus on Pete, who was coming his way and wearing a bigger smile than ever, if that were possible.

“Gerard!” he cried. “I couldn’t be more excited! Are you excited?”

“Very,” Gerard lied.

“Me too! I’ve never gotten to do one of these before! It’s going to be so much fun!”

Not for the first time, Gerard wondered if there was something exceptionally wrong with Pete Wentz. Surely normal people didn’t react like this to the chance to celebrate the death of twenty-two children. But maybe that sort of thing was normal in the Capitol.

Frank came out of his house then, and Gerard braced himself with a deep breath. This was the hard part, where they had to pretend for the cameras that they were madly in love. The pretending part wasn’t hard for Gerard; he wasn’t pretending, after all, but knowing that Frank was pretending – that sucked. And knowing that Korse was going to be watching and judging how convincing they were didn’t help.

Frank saw Gerard and put an expression on his face of complete joy. It looked fake to Gerard. He’d never seen Frank look as happy as that, not and mean it. But he thought it would probably fool people who didn’t know them. Frank raced down the footpath towards him, and Gerard went to meet him. They ran into one another’s arms, and Gerard pulled Frank in for a kiss, not because he wanted to, but because he thought it would hide his face for a minute or two. One of the cameramen had followed him, however, and was filming them both from a couple of feet away. It was very disconcerting.

“Frank! Gerard!” It was Patrick’s voice, and Gerard stepped away from Frank with mingled feelings of relief and disappointment. He hoped that to the viewers it looked like the two of them would happily stay in one another’s embrace for the entire day.

Patrick waved with his right hand. His left hand clutched a bulging suitcase, and two attendants behind him were carrying even more luggage.

“Is Patrick planning to stay here for a month?” Frank asked.

“I think those are for us,” Gerard said nervously.

“Hi, you two,” Patrick said once he got within speaking distance. “You’re both looking a lot better than when I saw you last.”

Gerard smiled and nodded. It was true. He and Frank had both recovered from the Games, and they’d both been eating a lot better since then than they ever had before.

“I don’t know if I’d say that!” Pete exclaimed. “Just look at what they’re wearing!” He cast a dismissive glance over Gerard’s shirt, which was covered in chalk dust and ink, and Frank’s pants, which were still muddy.

Patrick and Gerard exchanged a long-suffering glance, and then Patrick nodded. “He’s got a point,” he said. “We’d better get you two dressed.”

For the Hunger Games, the year before, Patrick had created the most spectacular and dazzling costumes. The clothes he’d made for the Victory Tour were a lot more practical, the sorts of things that a person could wear for an entire day without severely inconveniencing themselves. After pulling a dozen garments from various suitcases and trunks, Patrick decided that Gerard should wear a pair of dark blue pants with a soft blue shirt, and a dark coat which was double-breasted and thigh length, with flames embroidered around the cuffs. Patrick left Gerard to dress and went to sort out Frank’s outfit.

Gerard liked the clothes, once he had them on. The coat was beautiful, soft and light but so warm. He ran his hands over the material, marvelling at the way it felt. In District 12, they didn’t have the technology to make fabric as fine as this.

Gerard wandered out of the guest room in Frank’s house and went down to the kitchen. Frank’s mom was there with Pete, who was telling her all about how tedious the train ride had been.

“Gerard!” she said as he stepped into the room, with a definite note of relief in her voice. “You look wonderful.”

“Thanks,” Gerard answered. “I have to ask Patrick if we get to keep these clothes after the Tour. I can’t believe....” His words trailed off as Frank came down the hallway and entered the kitchen. He was wearing black pants and boots, with a red shirt over them and a black vest over that. Patrick had taken the time to do Frank’s hair and makeup as well, and as Gerard had learned to expect from Patrick, it didn’t make Frank look strange or fake, it just made him look even more like himself. He took Gerard’s breath away.

“Hey,” Frank said, his gaze directed somewhere at the floor near Gerard’s feet.

Gerard opened his mouth and closed it without saying anything. Frank didn’t want to hear Gerard gushing about how great he looked. Besides, Frank was dealing with his mother cooing over him and telling him how handsome he was, and Frank looked quite pained at even that much attention. It was best if Gerard kept back.

Things happened quickly after that. Gerard had spent the previous couple of days half-heartedly throwing random items of clothing into a suitcase, but it turned out that Patrick had brought enough clothes to outfit both Gerard and Frank for the entire Tour. When Patrick saw what Gerard had packed, he diplomatically suggested leaving it at home. Gerard was happy to do so, if it meant he didn’t have to pack anything else.

They were driven to the train station, which seemed like the most extreme decadence to Gerard, who was used to walking everywhere. He and Frank walked along the platform hand in hand, trailed by their parents and Mikey who had come along to say goodbye.

The train was there waiting, and they spent about five minutes getting all their luggage on board, and another thirty to record their arrival and farewells to the satisfaction of the camera crew. By the time Gerard boarded the train and it started to move, he was exhausted and dreading the two weeks ahead of him. In the past few months he’d forgotten what it was like, being watched so closely every second of the day.

It was mid-afternoon by the time they left District 12. They travelled for two hours through endless fields and orchards before finally arriving at the station for District 11.

District 11 was a huge district. Gerard had always known that, but seeing it was something else. They disembarked from the train into a fairly large town, but it was clearly only a small part of the entire district. They had passed quite a few smaller towns and villages on their way, and they’d only crossed half the district.

They were given the finest rooms in the town’s best inn. They were pretty plain, really; Gerard knew that after seeing the sorts of wonders they had in the Capitol, but it was still the sort of luxury that the average District 11 citizen would never see.

Patrick got Gerard and Frank to change into new outfits, which just struck Gerard as wasteful, but he trusted Patrick’s judgment and didn’t argue. After that, they were summoned to the feast.

The Victory Tour always took place six months after the last Game and before the next. The losing districts were each made to honour the victors with feasts and other celebrations. It was the Capitol’s way of keeping the horror of the Games fresh in the minds of the people, and keeping the districts divided against one another by forcing them to honour a victor who, in many cases, had killed one or two of their own. Gerard had been dreading the tour for this reason, but he couldn’t let any sign of that show. He and Frank had to convince everyone that they were nothing but deliriously happy to be together.

At the feast, there were endless toasts delivered by men and women who spoke of celebration but whose smiles rang false. Gerard had no appetite, but he didn’t want to appear ungrateful for the feast that had been laid out and managed to choke most of his meal down. He was glad to escape back to the inn at last and lie down for a few hours of sleep.

The next morning, there was a presentation in their honour. The entire town would be there; in particular, the families of the tributes from the previous year’s Games. Gerard wasn’t exactly looking forward to it, but he knew Frank was dreading it more than he could comprehend. During the Games, Frank had teamed up with one of the District 11 tributes for a short while. He didn’t talk about it much, but Jamia’s death had affected him deeply. And the other tribute, Spencer, had helped them as well, sparing Frank’s life when he could have killed him, out of a sense of obligation. Gerard knew that Frank felt more guilt for those two deaths than any others.

Personally, Gerard was dreading District 4, the home of the first tribute he’d killed. But that was far enough off that he didn’t have to worry about it yet. He wasn’t looking forward to reaching District 9 for the same reason, although the District 9 girl he’d killed had been dying already and it didn’t haunt him quite as much.

Patrick had put together a showy outfit for Gerard to wear. He wished that it was something a bit less flamboyant; he felt like he was flaunting his newfound wealth in front of the entire district. Frank had told him that he’d learned from Jamia that the district was run differently to 12; that the Peacekeepers were harsher and the rules stricter. He would be glad to leave. He took out the flask he'd brought with him from District 12 and took a swig, feeling relief as his anxiety dulled.

The presentation took place in the main square. Gerard had seen it on TV; the Reaping took place here each year. A huge crowd of people were gathered and watched as Gerard and Frank climbed up onto the platform, Alicia following behind them.

They were introduced to the mayor of the town, who delivered a speech congratulating Frank and Gerard on their victory and offering them gifts, including a finely woven rug with a floral pattern, a chest carved intricately from wood, and a large basket filled with a variety of fruit, most of which Gerard had only seen before on his last trip to the Capitol. These were the finest and most valuable gifts that District 11 could offer. Gerard and Frank took them, knowing that the speech and the gifts were not being given freely, but offered at the behest of the Capitol, under threat of punishment.

Gerard exchanged a glance with Frank. They were expected to give a speech of thanks in return, and before leaving, Gerard had talked to Frank about it, but Frank had been reluctant to discuss it. Gerard had written a speech on his own, knowing that the District 11 visit would be particularly difficult for Frank. He stepped forward and tried to remember how he had meant to start.

"Thank you," he said awkwardly. "Thank you, District 11, for your generosity." He looked out across the expanse of faces watching him, and nearly forgot the rest. "Frank and I are in your debt." At the front of the crowd, right near the stage, a small area had been set aside for Spencer and Jamia's families. He could see a man who he thought might be Spencer's father; he had the same chin and the same eyes. He was standing with a woman who must have been Spencer's mother, and two girls who looked just under reaping age. Gerard thought the others had to be Jamia’s family. They were all short and dark haired, like she had been. Looking at them caused Gerard's throat to dry up.

"I didn't know Spencer well," he said shakily. "But I respected him. He was someone who did what was right, no matter what. I... admired him for it." He looked over at Spencer's parents, and the two girls. They stared back at him expressionlessly. Gerard felt terrible; his words weren't enough, but he didn't have anything better. There was nothing he could say that would make Spencer not dead. And Jamia...

He couldn't look at her family as he continued. "Jamia was someone special - she was always brave, always so determined. It was only for a short time, but I'm glad I had the chance to know her."

When Gerard had originally written his speech, he had planned on adding more. He had toyed with the idea of announcing, publicly, that he and Frank were going to give a portion of their winnings to Spencer and Jamia's families. He knew Frank wouldn't mind, and if he did it in front of enough viewers he even had a chance of forcing the Capitol to go along with it. But that had changed when Frank had told him about the visit from President Korse. Now wasn't the time to do anything that might encourage ideas of rebellion or defiance. Gerard had actually toned down his speech significantly, removing any reference to the loss or grief experienced by the tributes' families. In the end, he felt bound by the scrutiny of the Capitol, unable to say or do anything meaningful. It seemed like the crowd watching felt the same way. He shifted uncomfortably under the accusing stares of Jamia's and Spencer's family. He hadn't said enough, but there was nothing he could add. The officials who had been standing to the side motioned to Gerard and Frank to leave the stage, but to Gerard's surprise, Frank stepped forward and said, "Wait!" 

"Jamia and Spencer..." he said shakily. "They should have been... we should have been friends. We could have been friends. We were supposed to fight them, but I couldn't. I couldn't... I'm sorry. Sorry I couldn't help them..."

Fear nearly stopped Gerard's heart from beating. What was Frank doing? He was the one Korse had visited, he was the one who had warned Gerard. If there was one thing they shouldn't be doing, it was giving any suggestion that the Hunger Games were anything other than wonderful. Gerard put one hand to the pocket of his coat, feeling the weight of his flask inside, being reassured by it although he couldn't take it out to drink.

The crowd stood in silence for a minute. Frank had fallen silent, like a clockwork toy which had wound down. The officials once again encouraged Frank and Gerard to start heading away from the stage, and Gerard moved to cooperate, but as he did so he saw movement in the corner of his eye. Someone in the crowd was moving towards the front. Gerard turned his head to see better, and saw a young man of about his own age, making his way through the crowd. The side of his face was marked with colour. Gerard squinted and realised that it was a bird, a mockingjay painted on the young man's face. His heart started to race. The man paused not far away, raised the middle three fingers of his left hand to his mouth, and then raising the hand into the air, the palm facing the stage. And then he whistled.

The notes were familiar, although it took Gerard a second to place them. Then he remembered it was the melody he and Frank had used to signal one another during the Games. After, Frank had told him he’d learned it from Jamia. For the signal to be repeated here was barely a step away from outright rebellion. Other people in the crowd were copying the salute. The officials urged Frank and Gerard to hurry, putting a hand on Frank's shoulder as he seemed reluctant to move.

They left the stage and the officials herded them back towards the car, but Frank stopped in his tracks. "Wait," he said again.

"Get in the car," one of the officials ordered.

Frank looked ready to protest. From the direction of the stage, they could hear a murmur of voices. They heard a few short, heated but indistinct phrases, and then a brief silence which was followed by a single gunshot.

Gerard jerked at the sound. His eyes met Frank's, who looked pale and shocked. He was trembling, and bracing himself like he was getting ready to run back to the stage. But the officials were standing right there, and they were physically pushing Frank and Gerard now, and one of them had a hand on the gun holstered at his side, which Gerard hadn't even noticed until he'd heard that shot...

They got into the car, silently. Pete was already inside, his eyes wide. "Did you hear that? What was it?" he demanded.

Gerard glanced over to Alicia, who shook her head silently. Gerard was sure she hadn't seen the boy with the bird on his face, but she wasn't stupid. She had to know something bad had happened. But she was right, they couldn't tell Pete about it.

"Fireworks," Patrick said. "I heard someone say they were going to send us off with fireworks."

"Oh!" Pete looked quite put out. "I wish they'd done that earlier, we didn't get a chance to see."

"Ah, well, I'm sure it wasn't anything special," Patrick said dismissively, avoiding Gerard's gaze. "It's only District 11, after all."

Pete immediately perked up. "You're right," he said. "I wonder what they're going to do in District 10?"

************

Alicia didn't have to see exactly what had happened to figure it out. She knew what the Capitol's Peacekeepers were capable of, and Frank and Gerard's expressions helped her make the leap. She was relieved that Patrick had been able to divert Pete's attention; someone had to do it but she knew she didn't have the patience to deal with him. She couldn't wait to get out of District 11. She couldn't wait for the whole tour to be over so they could return home.

She hadn't been on a Victory Tour, not since her own which she barely remembered. She'd never really considered what it would be like. She hadn't expected it to be like this. What kind of person would enjoy such a grisly promenade? Maybe this was the sort of thing they considered fun in District 1, but Alicia didn't consider reliving being forced to kill other children to be a good time. She knew Frank was fretting about getting to the last few districts, and facing the families and friends of tributes he'd personally killed. He wouldn't admit it, but she could tell.

Gerard had actually talked to her a bit, about how he felt, how he dreaded their visit to District 4. She'd always got along a bit better with Gerard, ever since his Reaping. He was annoyingly optimistic, but it was better than Frank, who thought himself too jaded to be shocked by anything but was laughably wrong in his self-perception. 

So, yes, she'd talked to Gerard, the last time he'd come to beg a bottle of liquor from her. Alicia supposed she should have refused to give it to him, or should have felt guilty about doing so, but that would have been hypocritical. After what Gerard had seen and done, she could give him the courtesy of letting him make his own decisions.

Frank seemed to regret his last-minute speech at District 11, and he was much more subdued in the other districts. Alicia couldn't say for sure whether the show of defiance in District 11 had actually been inspired by Frank’s words, but the citizens of the other districts were a lot quieter too.

When they reached District 7, they were taken directly from the train to a large hall in the middle of the main town. It wasn’t the square where they usually held the Reapings; Alicia had seen that on TV. She’d never seen this place before. To get there, their car wound through the streets and seemed to double back on itself a few times. It couldn’t possibly be the fastest way to get where they were going. At one point, they passed a few houses that were showing damage from a fire. Maybe that was the problem, maybe there had been a fire which had damaged the town square and the roads so that they had to take this winding route to somewhere else. Or maybe they were being taken this way so as not to see the damage. Alicia could see Gerard opening his mouth to ask about the burned buildings, and kicked him in the shin.

They were greeted by the mayor and District 7’s past victors. By now, the speeches were familiar and predictable, and Alicia distracted herself by looking around the room. The crowd wasn’t as big as they had seen in other districts; only so many people could fit inside the hall, but they were being filmed, so she was sure that the rest of the district was being made to watch the presentation anyway. Alicia looked across the stage and her eyes met one of the district’s victors, Victoria Asher. Vicky-T, she was called by Capitol TV presenters. Alicia wasn’t sure why. When Vicky noticed her gaze, she glanced over towards the stupid wooden... something Alicia couldn’t identify, which was being offered to Frank and Gerard as a gift, and looked back to Alicia with an eyebrow raised in mockery. Alicia let herself smile back, just a little.

She didn’t know Vicky well, or anything. She didn’t really know any of the other victors. She saw them once a year, and sometimes on television in between Games, but that was it. She didn’t want to know them any better than that. There was no way it could turn out well; the mentors of different districts were adversaries and always would be. So Alicia returned Vicky’s smile, but offered nothing more.

After the speeches, though, Vicky sought Alicia out at the feast. This, too, had become dull and predictable, the food becoming a chore to get past rather than a delicacy to be savoured. Even the liquor was not to Alicia’s taste, being too sweet, too dainty, not strong enough, or _something_. Perhaps the problem was that Alicia had run out of her preferred drink a couple of days ago, and now had to make do with whatever was available. She made do, but she didn’t have to like it. She could see Gerard across the room, apparently much happier with the alcohol situation than she was. Alicia reminded herself to talk to Gerard about not indulging too much. It wasn’t safe.

“Great party,” Vicky remarked, the barest hint of sarcasm in her voice.

Even the poorest Capitol party was much fancier than this, and Alicia had been to plenty of those. She wondered what Vicky was getting at. “It’s not bad,” she replied in a neutral tone.

“Shame about the change of venue,” Vicky added. “I heard they had to change all the plans at the last minute.”

“I noticed,” Alicia said, her mind racing. Was Vicky alluding to what had happened in the square? She hadn’t hoped to get any information about that at all. “On the way here, I saw... was there a fire?”

“Oh, yes,” Vicky said, lowering her voice. “Terrible thing. Right in the square. And at the mayor’s house. And the head Peacekeepers. Shocking thing to happen, really.”

Alicia nodded, trying to keep her face free of expression. Had there been an actual uprising, right here in District 7? It must have happened in the last day or two, or they would have done a better job concealing the damage. Alicia looked over at Vicky from the corner of her eye. There were no obvious signs – no bandaged up injuries or anything like that. She looked a little weary, with shadows under her eyes almost completely hidden by make-up, but that wasn’t proof that she was part of some resistance group. If there had been an uprising here, the Capitol had probably killed everyone involved, anyway.

“It sounds awful,” Alicia said, because she needed to say something and she had no idea why Vicky was telling her all this anyway. Vicky snorted and tossed her dark hair over one shoulder.

“Yeah,” she drawled. “Awful. It’s been fun, but I think I should go mingle now, or people will talk.”

She walked off, managing to adopt a gait which was both predatory and somehow intriguing. Alicia wondered what had just happened. Did Vicky-T just insult her? Or was she trying to get Alicia involved in some kind of plot? Alicia just didn’t have enough information to figure it all out. Not when the cost of trusting the wrong person could be so great.

They left District 7 early the next morning, and Districts 6 and 5 went by without incident. Although Alicia looked for it, there was no sign anywhere of uprisings or anything out of the ordinary happening. And shortly afterwards, she got distracted from thinking about it because Gerard was absolutely not coping with the idea that they were just about to reach District 4.

“He volunteered, and he was trying to kill you, and you were just trying to survive. So don’t blame yourself,” Alicia said firmly. She wondered if the words would help Gerard. They’d never helped her, when her mentor had told her the same thing, but she didn’t have anything better. She looked over at Frank, who seemed lost in his own world. Sometimes she felt like shaking Frank and telling him to notice what he had.

“If it hadn’t been you, it would have been someone else,” Frank said suddenly, showing that he had been paying attention after all. “Bert, or Spencer, or me, maybe.” He drifted off again, his gaze turning towards the window once more. Gerard nodded and clenched his fists.

“It’s just that he knew all the careers, and then I spent all that time with them,” Gerard mused. “But they didn’t seem to be mad, or anything, about the fact that I killed him. They just kind of accepted it. But they should have been mad, shouldn’t they? If he was really their friend.”

“No such thing as friends in the arena,” Alicia said, and avoided looking at Gerard and Frank and thinking about how that hadn’t turned out to be true for them.

Frank had to give the speech this time, while Gerard huddled behind him looking miserable. Alicia stood at his side watchfully, because this was a wealthy district, they _trained_ for the Games here, and they probably weren’t too thrilled about two District 12 nobodies winning last year.

District 4 was quite well off compared to the districts they’d visited already, so the festivities were a lot more elaborate and took up more time. During some kind of performance – a dance that they were made to watch – one of the District’s victors made his way towards Alicia from the other side of the room.

“Enjoying the show?” he asked, leaning down to whisper conspiratorially into her ear.

“Back off, Beckett,” Alicia hissed. 

“They’ve really outdone themselves this year. Of course, the Games were so spectacular last year, I think they wanted to really stand out.”

“What do you want?”

Beckett looked over to where Frank and Gerard stood, holding hands. His mouth quirked into a half smile. “How are the two lovebirds getting along?”

Alicia felt uneasy. “What do you mean?”

Beckett didn’t look at her, his eyes still fixed on Gerard and Frank as his expression became more serious. “Lots of people taking an interest,” he said. “Everyone wants to know about the District 12 victors. They’re so in love, so alive. So determined.”

Alicia nodded slowly, nerves making her palms sweaty. “What have you heard, Beckett?”

Finally, he looked at her, his eyes grave in his ridiculously pretty face. “Just what I said. Everyone wants to know every single thing about them. They should look forward to being watched every minute of every day. People love a happy ending.” Beckett wandered off to talk to someone else, and once again Alicia was left to wonder what she could do to make Frank and Gerard... mostly Frank... appear more in love.

She realised that she was starting to care about the two idiots and tried to shake herself out of it. She’d learned her lesson about that. It was better to be alone, and safe from loss or hurt. Frank and Gerard would have to worry about their own problems.

When they finally reached the Capitol a few days later, Alicia was well and truly ready to be heading back to District 12. But there was just one last night to get through, and she knew she would manage. After years and years of annual trips to the Capitol for the Games, Alicia was used to the extravagant food, but the Victory Feast laid out was still more elaborate than anything she had experienced before. She ate her fill quickly and found a corner of the room where she could sit without being disturbed.

The Capitol citizens attending the party were still eating, piling plate after plate with food and taking emetics in between so they could keep eating. Alicia had seen it before, but this was on a much bigger scale, and she felt repulsed. She could see Patrick sitting at one table, Pete next to him and talking his ear off. As she watched, Patrick looked up and caught her eye. He blushed and looked away, and Alicia felt a little bad. There must have been some condemnation in her expression that Patrick had noticed. He was the only person from the Capitol she’d ever met who actually seemed to realise how the Capitol lifestyle appeared to people from the districts. As she watched, Pete put one hand over Patrick’s, holding out some item of food for him to try, and Patrick blushed even redder.

Alicia smirked a little and looked away so that she wouldn’t be caught staring.

**********

It took another day for the train to get them all back home, and once they arrived and were truly alone for the first time in two weeks, Alicia wasted no time getting Gerard and Frank to somewhere they could talk privately.

Okay, so it was just the kitchen of her house, but they should be able to talk safely enough, as long as they kept their voices down. As a precaution, Alicia turned the television on, relieved that it blinked to life at the touch of a button and that the electricity was apparently running.

“You boys might be in trouble,” she murmured over the sound of the television. “I don’t think the whole ‘madly in love’ act is working.” Beckett wasn’t the only one to mention it, just the most blatant. They really did have a problem.

Gerard looked crestfallen, and Frank looked mutinous. “We’ve been _trying_ ,” he insisted. “What do they want us to do, get married on live television?”

“Maybe,” said Alicia. “Or something. You all saw the same things I did. There have been uprisings in some of the other districts.”

Frank nodded at that, but didn’t look happy. “I ran into Korse at the party in the Capitol,” he said. “He... well, I don’t think he’s satisfied.”

Gerard shook his head. “Asshole,” he said. “It’s not our fault people are uprising. They’re doing it because they’re unhappy. It would have happened eventually, with or without us.”

“Maybe,” said Alicia. “But whether or not that’s true, you’re the ones who are going to wear it if things don’t settle down.”

Frank took this opportunity to press the same idea forward that he’d been pushing ever since they’d returned from the Games last year. “I told you we should leave,” he said. “The three of us, and my mom, and Bob, and your parents and Mikey, Gee. It’s the only way to make sure we’re all safe.”

“How would we survive?”

“Me and Bob can hunt. We can teach the rest of you.”

“They’d find us. There’s no safe place to go.”

“If we get far enough...”

“No.” Gerard shook his head, waving his hands in a gesture of denial. “That’s not even... I don’t think we should leave.” He stopped and looked from Alicia to Frank, his expression serious. “I’d feel like we were abandoning everyone here. I think we should stay. People need us.”

“Need us for what?” Alicia asked, raising the volume on the television slightly. It sounded like Gerard was about to suggest something that he couldn’t take back. It made Alicia nervous. The Capitol was far too powerful for a small group of nobodies like them to resist. Gerard had to know that.

Gerard gave her a long look, but he didn’t actually say it. “We’re giving people hope,” is all he would say. “They need hope. We have to stay.”

**********

Instead of hope, what District 12 received was an entirely new Peacekeeper force. The Peacekeepers they’d had before were assholes, sure, but once the new group arrived they all learned just how much worse it could be. People were arrested for stupid, petty shit. Patrols went around the town constantly, intimidating people and getting in the way. And on their third day in town, they burned the Hob to the ground.

It was purely luck that no one was killed. A few people were injured, a few more arrested for illegal trading. Trading continued, of course, the Peacekeepers couldn’t shut it down completely, but without a central place to do business and law enforcement no longer turning a blind eye, it was much harder.

The worst part was that the price of liquor went through the roof, and the stuff that was available was much lower in quality than what Alicia was used to. Gerard turned out to be really useful, managing to keep them both in pretty good supply. Better than they needed, really, and Alicia started to think that she might need to talk to Gerard about not overdoing it. She changed that ‘might’ to a ‘definitely’ the day that Gerard slipped off one of her kitchen chairs and couldn’t get up again. She hauled him up by his collar and was just about to start her lecture when she heard a commotion of voices from the street.

Alicia dragged Gerard with her out of the house. There was a small crowd outside Frank’s house. Frank was there, and a cut on his face slowly oozed blood. With him were Ray and two people Alicia didn’t know. The four of them were holding up Bob, who was unconscious and seemed to be hurt.

“What happened?” Alicia asked.

“Can you get the door?” Frank asked, instead of answering. Alicia opened it, and the group carried Bob inside. Alicia noticed that they were leaving a trail of blood droplets where they passed. She followed them inside with a feeling of dread.

“It was a wild turkey,” she heard Frank say when she reached the kitchen. “They said he was poaching, and they did this. By the time I got there...”

While Frank related the story, his mother had got Bob stretched out on the kitchen table on his stomach. With a kitchen knife she slit his shirt open and tossed the rags to the side. They weren’t worth keeping.

Bob’s back was a bloody mess. Mrs. Iero snapped orders and the others in the kitchen jumped into action, running to fetch bandages and snow and whatever else. Alicia stood like a fool, feeling useless as Mrs. Iero started cleaning Bob up. Mikey was there too; Alicia hadn’t noticed him until he stepped up to the other side of the table with a cloth, mopping up blood.

“Mikey,” Alicia heard Gerard mumble. “What’re you doing here?” She’d forgotten that Gerard was with her.

Frank hadn’t noticed Gerard until he spoke. “Gee,” he said, “Are you _drunk_?”

“Just...” Gerard shook his head slightly, looking confused. “A bit. Mikey... Mikey shouldn’t be seeing this.”

“I’m fine, Gee,” said Mikey, applying some kind of concoction that Mrs. Iero had created to Bob’s wounds. “Don’t worry about me.”

“Just... get out, Gerard.” Frank pushed his hair back roughly with one hand. “I can’t deal with you right now. Alicia, can you get him out of here?”

Alicia nodded. Finally, something she would be able to do. She took Gerard’s arm and led him firmly out of the house, ignoring his protests.

“That’s my little brother,” Gerard slurred. “That’s my Mikey. He’s too young to see things like that.”

“We’re all too young, Gerard,” Alicia said wearily. “Mikey’s doing okay.”

Gerard didn’t answer, and Alicia thought he’d listened to her. When she looked, however, she realised he’d fallen asleep.

*********

Frank was really pissed about Gerard’s drinking after that. He talked to Gerard and somehow got him to agree to cut back. Alicia doubted whether Gerard could keep his word, but to her surprise he managed for a while.

A week or so after the thing with Bob, there was an announcement that there would be a special presentation on television that evening. Throughout District 12, the news was received with a good deal of apprehension. The chances of this being good news were slim.

“Maybe it’s got something to do with the Quarter Quell,” Gerard mused, and Alicia thought he was probably right.

The next Hunger Games would be the seventy-fifth. Every twenty-five years, the rules of the game were altered in some way to keep things interesting, and they called it a Quarter Quell. Alicia still remembered the last one. She couldn’t help but do so. That was the year she became victor.

The TV presentation opened with Brian Schechter greeting the audience with his usual flair. _“Hello viewers, and welcome. I hope you are all looking forward to this year’s Hunger Games as much as I am! And of course, this is a special year; it is the seventy-fifth annual Hunger Games, the third Quarter Quell.”_

“I was right,” Gerard said, but he didn’t sound pleased. He mostly sounded despondent.

_“We’ll go now to join Head Gamemaker Travis McCoy as he prepares to announce the setup for this year’s Hunger Games.”_

The screen cut to a huge stage in a hall which held a huge audience. McCoy stood there, with a small ornate box on the podium in front of him. Alicia recognised him from the feast in the Capitol. She tried to read his expression, but it was as blank as a pane of glass.

 _”Seventy-five years ago, when the Hunger Games were created, the first Gamemakers gave the order that every quarter of a century, the rules for that year’s Game would be slightly modified,”_ McCoy said. _“Two such events have already passed. For the first Quarter Quell, each district voted on the tributes that were to be sent. And for the Second Quarter Quell, four tributes were Reaped from each district rather than the usual two. The rules for the Third Quarter Quell are contained in this chest, and I will announce them now.”_ McCoy indicated the chest in front of him, and then with a dramatic gesture he lifted the gilded lid. He removed an envelope and closed the box. He broke the envelope’s seal and removed a slip of paper. He read it, then raised his eyes to the camera again to say, _“In the Third Quarter Quell, tributes will be chosen from among the victors of each district.”_

“What,” said Gerard.

“The fuck?” Frank asked.

Alicia kept quiet. She didn’t need McCoy to say it again. It was only Frank and Gerard’s optimism, their will to deny that even more could go wrong for them, that was causing them to protest the announcement. There was no changing it, no escaping it. Two of them would be going back into the arena.

McCoy was saying some other things, and then the program cut to some other Capitol personalities talking what the Games this year might be like. Alicia didn’t pay any attention to it. She couldn’t give a fuck which well known victors would be Reaped and who would win. Her mind seemed to have just frozen up and only began working again when Frank said, “I’ve got to get out of here.”

Frank raced out of the house without another word, and Alicia and Gerard didn’t move to stop him. Gerard seemed to be as stunned as Alicia felt.

“What,” he repeated. “What the fuck should we do?”

Alicia looked around her filthy kitchen miserably. “Let’s drink until we’re unconscious.”

“Oh,” said Gerard. “Hell, yes. Let’s do that.”

**************

Alicia didn’t really get hangovers anymore, but she still felt pretty bad the next morning. She’d made a significant dent in her supply of alcohol, which was a little worrying considering how hard the stuff had been to buy recently, but what the hell. She might not have many days left anyway.

Alicia was considering getting up and drinking some water or something when she heard someone stomping around downstairs. “Alicia!” came a shout. It was Frank’s voice. Alicia sighed and got up to face Frank.

He was pissed. “Do you have any sort of idea what state Gerard is in this morning?”

Alicia rubbed her aching head and decided to swap the glass of water for some hair of the dog. “I think I might have a vague idea.”

“That was completely irresponsible!” Frank threw his hands up and the volume of his voice rose with them. “It’s bad enough that you’re trying to drown yourself in alcohol, could you try not to take Gerard down with you?”

Alicia winced and closed her eyes against the painful sunlight. “Gerard makes his own decisions, Frank. I’m not his babysitter.”

“No,” Frank snarled, “I suppose not. That would imply that you gave a shit about anyone besides yourself.”

“Hey!” Tired of being insulted, Alicia stepped forward, getting into Frank’s space. “I haven’t forgotten the way you raced out of here yesterday. I’m sure you did that because you were so concerned about everyone else, right? You left me here with Gerard, and I’m _so_ sorry that I didn’t mother him to your exacting standards, but the two of you are not my problem.”

Frank deflated and even looked slightly abashed. “I was upset,” he admitted. “I’m worried.” He met Alicia’s eyes, looking much calmer. “The three of us have a month. We should start preparing. Training.”

“Okay,” Alicia said. “That’s a good plan.”

“And you two,” Frank added, “You need to stop drinking. Dry out before the Games start.”

“Ugh,” Alicia grunted. To Frank’s raised eyebrow, she said, “Can’t we just leave the district, like you suggested months ago?”

“Um...” Frank sucked on his lower lip, looking uncomfortable. “Probably not.”

“Huh?”

“I mean, even if you could convince Gerard to leave... and he’s been really reluctant, for some reason... When I left, yesterday, you know?” Alicia nodded. “I went out into the forest, and I was out there for a while. I didn’t come back until the evening, and the electric fence was running.”

“It often runs in the evening, though.”

“Yeah, but someone had come past and fixed the loose wires down the bottom. I’d climbed under there just a few hours before. It’s not a coincidence that they fixed it yesterday. I waited for a couple of hours and the electricity didn’t switch off. I had to climb a tree and jump over the fence. I nearly broke my leg. We’d never get Mikey and our parents over the fence. Hell, I couldn’t get over the fence if it’s running.”

“It’ll have to shut off eventually.”

Frank shrugged. “When I got home, there were two Peacekeepers there looking for me. They were real surprised when I turned up. They knew I was outside the fence, and they were expecting me to be trapped out there. I made up a story, but they made sure to tell me that the fence is going to have power twenty-four hours a day.”

Alicia considered this. “I suppose there’s nowhere else to go, anyway.”

“Well, actually...”

“What?”

“That’s the other thing that happened yesterday. I went out into the forest and I walked around for ages. I went to this place, um, an old shack? My dad used to take me there sometimes. Anyway, I met these people there...”

“What? Who?”

“I don’t know, they were just... they were from District 8. They ran away and they were trying to reach District 13.”

“There is no District 13,” Alicia said. “District 13 was wiped out in the rebellion. There’s nothing left except a smoking crater, they show it on TV all the time!”

“Well, they seemed to think that the Capitol is just using the same archive footage, and that there might actually be something out there worth running to. Maybe even some survivors.”

“Or there really is nothing there, and the Capitol uses the same footage every time because it’s cheaper and easier than flying all the way out there every time they want to remind us what happens to districts which don’t play nice.”

“Well, yeah.” Frank slumped. “Probably. Not like it matters, anyway. There’s no way out of the district now.”

**********

Frank’s training regime turned out to be grueling and demanding. It didn’t help that Gerard was trying to stick to his promise not to touch alcohol until the Games were over. He managed to keep that promise for the entire month, but he knew that Alicia didn’t keep her word quite so well.

They’d talked about who would likely end up going into the arena and what they might do, but those conversations hadn’t been at all productive. Gerard had stupidly announced that he would volunteer in Frank’s place if Frank was chosen, and Frank had responded that he was an idiot. Gerard had replied that Frank could think what he liked but he couldn’t stop Gerard from doing what he wanted. They’d had the same conversation several times, with the same results.

So by the morning of the Reaping, they still didn’t really have a plan about how to handle it. It was a shame, because if they’d been able to come up with a strategy they could have fixed which of them would be going in, but it hadn’t worked out that way.

The reaping was quite different to usual, of course. As many people as could fit crowd into the town square as usual, but instead of having the children grouped by age in the centre, everyone stood with their own families, while Frank, Gerard, and Alicia were led to a small roped off area in the front.

The huge glass ball that usually held the names looked ridiculous, with just three tiny slips of paper inside. Pete actually had to tilt the ball on its side to reach down far enough to pick one out, and Gerard meanly noted how ridiculous he looked.

“The first tribute for District 12 will be Francis Iero!” Pete announced.

Gerard barely let him finish speaking before he yelled, “I volunteer!” The whole crowd gasped and Pete looked confused. Gerard focused on Pete’s face, because it was better than looking at Frank who was glaring at him and calling him a stupid, selfish asshole.

Gerard wasn’t really willing to admit it, even to himself, but this was actually the best outcome he could have asked for. Frank’s name had already been drawn, and Gerard had managed to take his place, so Frank was out of it and Gerard would be going into the arena with Alicia. It was horrible, but Gerard knew he could cope better with Alicia being in danger than Frank. He was probably an awful person for being capable of that sort of rationalisation.

Pete pulled out another slip of paper, grimacing and tossing it aside because it was Gerard’s, and then he plucked out the third and final piece, calling the name “Alicia Simmons!” Gerard looked over at her sympathetically, but then he was distracted by a shout from the crowd.

It was Frank, and he cried, “I volunteer!” pushing Alicia out of the way and climbing the stairs to the stage.

“What the fuck are you doing, you moron?” Gerard hissed when Frank is close enough.

“I could ask you the same thing!” Frank replied. “We agreed you weren’t going to do this!”

“The hell we did!”

They had to be quiet, then, because Pete was calling for applause and holding up their arms and generally being like he always was. The crowd was silent. It reminded Gerard of last year’s Reaping, but there was an edge of anger to the crowd that wasn’t there the year before, and that worried him. It was just so dangerous.

They didn’t get time to say goodbye. The Peacekeepers marched them straight to the train station, and the train pulled out as soon as they climbed aboard. Gerard went right to the compartment that he’d adopted as his own, because he’d ridden the train so many times recently that he’d managed to do that. He closed the door behind him, but he was under no illusion that Frank would leave him in peace, and indeed Frank followed him a few seconds later.

“You fucking asshole!” Frank snarled through gritted teeth. “I can’t believe you did that to me!”

“Did _what_ , tried to save your life?”

“Yeah, tried to save my life! By sacrificing yourself, just to... what? Satisfy your giant, stupid martyr complex?”

“I did it because I _love_ you, Frank, what’s your excuse?”

“I...” Frank stuttered into silence, completely floored. “I... Gerard....” He paused for a moment, but Gerard stubbornly refused to speak just to break the silence. “Gee... you know I love you too, right?”

“Do I know that?” Gerard challenged.

“Okay....” Frank looked uncertain. “Gerard, I love you.”

It took a few seconds for Gerard to accept that he’d lost his will to fight with Frank’s soft declaration. He hadn’t been expecting it, but he realised that he believed Frank was telling the truth.

“Okay,” said Gerard. “Okay. Good.”

“Yeah,” Frank snorted. “Good.”

“Well gosh,” said Alicia from the doorway. “This is all very touching and so forth, you pair of reckless idiots. What the hell are we going to do now?”

**************

Alicia couldn’t bring herself to be too pissed off with either Frank or Gerard. She couldn’t deny that she was happy to not be going back into the arena, that the moment Frank had volunteered at the Reaping she had experienced a sense of relief so great she had nearly collapsed. But it might have been easier in the long run, if either Frank or Gerard had been left behind to continue being a symbol of hope for the districts. Things had worked out just as President Korse must have hoped for. Alicia couldn’t help but wonder whether the specific rules for this Quarter Quell had really been determined all those years ago. It was just so convenient.

They spent the train ride studying the other tributes and learning everything they could. It was different to other years, where the Reapings were important to watch to get impressions of the other tributes but there wasn’t much to be learned. This year, Pete had procured tapes not only of all the Reapings, but of all the Games that the still living victors had competed in. The boxes of tapes filled an entire carriage of the train.

Alicia would just as soon have skipped watching the Reapings, but Gerard and Frank were relying on her to tell them about the opponents they were going to face. She wasn’t on friendly terms with any of the other victors, or, well, with anyone, really, but it was surprisingly hard to watch people that she knew get drawn in the Reaping.

She kept up a commentary as it goes on. “That’s Tennessee,” she said during the District 11 draw, “and Zach. They’re both decent people, but in the arena you’d better be careful of them. They don’t get rattled easily.” Her breath caught a little at District 7 when Vicky-T was drawn. Not for any real reason, just because she’d spoken to her so recently. Then they reached District 6, and “That’s Alex, and the other one’s... they’re both called Alex, actually. They’re addicts, both of them, I don’t think they’ll be any threat to you.” She remembered when the younger Alex won his Games, actually, and she would have felt bad, if she could have afforded to, about discussing his probable death so casually.

District 4, and William Beckett was drawn. “Isn’t he the one with all the lovers?” Gerard asked, and Alicia nodded.

“That’s the rumour.” Along with Beckett, a woman with wildly curly dark hair was drawn and promptly went into hysterics. Beckett moved towards her, but to everyone’s surprise, an older woman volunteered to take her place. The younger woman continued to cry but the program cut short there and moved on to the next district. 

By the end of it, Frank and Gerard both looked exhausted, so Alicia said, “I’m going to try to get some sleep. Why don’t you two do the same?”

She wandered off down the train to her compartment and got dressed to sleep. She was surprised by a soft knock on her door, and opened it to see Frank standing there.

“What do you want,” she asked with a sigh. Frank’s face was already set and belligerent, which was not a good sign.

“Can we talk?” Frank asked, stepping through the door.

“Please,” said Alicia sarcastically. “Won’t you come in, and make yourself at home?”

“Oh, please,” Frank snorted. “Listen. I wanted to ask you something. About Gerard.”

“Oh, this should be good.”

Frank glared at her. “I know last time, you and Gerard had some agreement. The two of you were working together to keep me alive.”

There was no doubt in Frank’s voice, so Alicia couldn’t see the point in denying it. “Yes.”

“Well, this time, I want you to do that. I want you to do that for Gerard, you and me. We keep him alive.”

Alicia gave Frank her best disbelieving look, and he added defensively, “It’s his turn.”

Alicia had to chuckle at that. “All right. Fine. We’ll keep Gerard alive. Fair’s fair.” Frank nodded, and Alicia added, “But we can’t tell him. He won’t agree with it. He can’t know.”

Frank considered that. “Okay,” he said, and Alicia was relieved.

“Well,” she snapped. “Hadn’t you better clear out of here before he notices we’re talking and wonders why?”

Frank left the room, and Alicia hoped he wouldn’t mention their agreement, to Gerard or anyone else. Because no matter what she had promised Frank, she couldn’t save Gerard if it meant abandoning Frank.

The rebels needed him.

***********

The next morning, Alicia was woken much earlier than she would have liked by another tap on her door. 

“Frank,” she grumbled, “I swear, if you....” She stopped abruptly when she threw the door open and it was Gerard, not Frank, who was standing on the other side. “Oh,” she said. “What do _you _want?”__

__Gerard smirked at her and shouldered his way through the door. “Were the two of you raised by wolves?” Alicia asked, letting the door slide closed._ _

__“Listen,” Gerard said urgently. “You know why I’m here, right? I need your help again, to save Frank. I can’t do it without you, and I don’t want him to die.”_ _

__Alicia sighed, and Gerard ploughed on. “Please! I know you don’t like him much, but he took your place. You owe...”_ _

__“Stop right there,” Alicia said, and Gerard fell silent. “First of all, you know damn well that Frank volunteered for your sake, not mine, so don’t even bring that up.” She paused until Gerard nodded, once, and then she added, “I’ll help you keep Frank alive. Not because I like him, or even you... I don’t. But because we need him. The districts need him. The...” she went quiet and looked around the carriage. There was no sign that it was bugged, but she still wouldn’t risk saying it. “You know he’s needed,” she finished, and Gerard nodded again. “So I’ll help you. But you need to know that Frank came to me last night, and asked me to do the exact same thing you just did. Help him to save your life.”_ _

__Gerard blinked at her. “You’re not going to, though, right? You’re going to help me, not him.”_ _

__“Yes, Gerard,” Alicia sighed. “I’m going to help you. But Frank thinks I’m helping him, and we have to let him keep thinking that.”_ _

__“Okay,” Gerard agreed. “That’s... good.” He moved back towards the door. “I’d better go back, before he notices I’m not there.”_ _

__“Go back?” Alicia asked curiously. Gerard blushed, and Alicia clicked. “Oh. Well, yes, I suppose you had.” She couldn’t quite keep the censure out of her voice. It wasn’t that she disapproved, not really. She couldn’t have cared less, she was just surprised to learn that the two of them had apparently spent the night together._ _

__Gerard disappeared, and Alicia thought about getting a few more hours of sleep. She didn’t, though, instead getting up and dressed, and going in search of something to drink for breakfast._ _

__Pete was already in the dining car when she arrived, eating bacon and eggs and looking out the window. Alicia sat down opposite him and poured herself a glass in silence. Neither of them spoke for several minutes._ _

__Eventually, Pete was the one to speak up. “This year’s going to be different,” he said._ _

__Alicia blinked. The words were ordinary enough, but the way Pete said them... she’d never heard Pete sound like that. Reflective, sad even. “It will be,” she agreed, wondering what Pete was thinking about._ _

__“I managed to catch up with Patrick before I left the Capitol,” Pete said with a small smile. “He’s got big plans for this year. I think Frank and Gerard will be pleased.”_ _

__“I’m sure they will be,” Alicia said. “They both like Patrick a lot.”_ _

__“Of course they do!” Pete said, with a smile more reminiscent of the Pete Alicia knew. “Patrick’s a genius.”_ _

__“Yeah,” Alicia said, because she could hardly deny that. “He’s a genius.”_ _

__*********_ _

__Frank and Gerard had spent the morning watching tapes of the victors in their original Games. Alicia could see the tapes they must have already watched and discarded, but when she entered the carriage they were watching the fiftieth Hunger Games, the second Quarter Quell. They were watching her._ _

__She stood quietly in the doorway for a few minutes trying to calm herself down before they realised she was there. She could hear the two of them talking about how she’d won. She’d led the other surviving tribute to the very edge of the arena, and when he’d thrown his axe at her, she’d ducked so that it rebounded off the forcefield and hit him in the head._ _

__“She turned the arena itself into a weapon,” Frank said with awe._ _

__“I bet the Gamemakers were pissed,” Gerard added. “That wasn’t supposed to happen. It’s as bad as us with the berries.”_ _

__“Not quite,” Alicia said, pettily enjoying the way Frank and Gerard both started a little in their seats. “I didn’t back them into enough of a corner to make them let two tributes win.” She thought she did pretty well to keep resentment out of her voice, but Gerard was a perceptive little shit and he looked at her keenly._ _

__“You mean Lindsey?” he said, and Alicia had to nod._ _

__“Oh, my mother knew her,” Frank said, but Alicia was barely listening._ _

__Lindsey Ballato. She’d been one of the other tributes from District 12. They’d teamed up for a short while, and they’d worked well together, but eventually they’d had to split up and Lindsey had been killed. Alicia had never really noticed her before the Games, but after they were Reaped she hadn’t been able to help it. Lindsey had been smart and resourceful and optimistic. She’d been a lot like Gerard, actually. If Alicia had managed to be a bit more like Gerard, then she and Lindsey might have wound up in the position that Frank and Gerard were in, namely, both still being alive. But Alicia knew that was wishful thinking. It did no good to believe that you could outsmart the Capitol. She learned that the hard way._ _

__“Anyway,” Alicia said brusquely. “I think we’re about to arrive. You’d better make sure you’ve got everything you need.”_ _

__***********_ _

__It turned out Patrick did have another fantastic costume for Frank and Gerard to wear; suits which glowed like burning coals so that the two tributes looked like they were coated in them. It was completely stunning and actually outdid their costumes from the previous year. They went through the Opening Ceremony again and the crowd reacted as strongly as they did the year before. Alicia met up with Gerard and Frank afterwards and they wound up riding the elevator to their floor of the Training Centre along with William Beckett and Victoria Asher._ _

__“Ugh,” Victoria grumbled as the doors close. Her district, 7, was the lumber district, and her stylist had stuck her in a costume which looked like a tree, complete with a huge and ridiculous headpiece of branches and leaves, which Vicky-T pulled off and dropped to the floor. “Can you believe this?” she asked, gesturing to her outfit. “My stylist is an idiot.” She looked over to Frank with an envious expression. She glanced to the other side, where Alicia was standing, and quirked one eyebrow. “I’ve been wanting to get this ugly thing off all night.” She twisted one arm up behind her to tug down the zipper at the back of her outfit, and Alicia quickly averted her gaze._ _

__With her gaze fixed resolutely at the corner of the elevator, Alicia eventually realised that Beckett was speaking to her, but she had no idea what he’d said. “I’m sorry, what was that?” she asked._ _

__“Bit distracted, are you?” Beckett asked, and she could hear the smirk in his voice. She would have slapped him if she didn’t feel sorry for him. “I was just saying, if you’ve got some time free later, I’d like to talk to you. Privately.”_ _

__“Why?” Alicia asked suspiciously. Beckett had a reputation for having a huge number of lovers, but she had a feeling that wasn’t why he was approaching her._ _

__“Just to have a chat, victor to victor,” Beckett replied evasively. Alicia would have pressed him for more answers, but they stopped at Beckett’s floor and he got off the elevator, leaving Alicia with no distraction from Vicky-T, who had managed to get her bodysuit completely off and was taking off her shoes._ _

__“It’s lucky we didn’t have to do much walking,” she was saying. “If I had to go another step in those things, I’d probably break a leg.”_ _

__Alicia risked a glance over, and had to admit that the shoes Vicky’s been wearing all evening don’t look like anything she’d ever want to try on. The elevator dinged to a stop again, and Vicky stepped out, leaving her clothes piled up on the floor and turning her head as she left to wink at Alicia over her shoulder. Alicia snapped her head back towards the corner, her cheeks burning._ _

__Gerard and Frank had been quiet as the elevator ascended, but once the doors closed behind Vicky’s naked form, Alicia heard Gerard whisper something and Frank snicker in reply._ _

__“Got something to say?” she barked as the elevator stopped at the highest floor._ _

__“No, Alicia, of course not,” Gerard replied sweetly. The liar._ _

__**********_ _

__Alicia sent the two of them off to training the next day with a stern warning to stay together and stay madly in love. They headed downstairs with sighs and eyerolls that they seemed to think she couldn’t see or hear._ _

__Normally, while the tributes were training, Alicia would be finding out which of the Capitol’s most powerful residents might be interested in sponsoring them. Well, that and drinking. Mostly drinking, if she were being honest. This year, though, she was sure that finding sponsors would be fairly easy, and she was still trying to go easy on the drink. She wanders around the lower floors of the training centre, talking to potential sponsors and trying to kill time._ _

__She’d managed to waste an hour or so when someone walked up behind her and said “Hey.” Alicia started and jumped up from her chair, spinning around to glare at the person. It was Beckett, and she groaned._ _

__“What do you want?” she snapped, and then, “Hey, aren’t you meant to be in training right now?”_ _

__“Oh, training.” Beckett waved one hand dismissively and changed the subject. “I told you I wanted to talk to you.”_ _

__“About?”_ _

__Beckett looked around the room they were in, the large open lobby of the training centre. “Why don’t we somewhere we can relax?”_ _

__“Beckett, you might not have realised this, but I don’t actually swing that way.”_ _

__Beckett laughed and took her hand. “Oh, that’s very funny. Please. I’m not hitting on you.”_ _

__“Ah, right,” Alicia said weakly. “That’s good.”_ _

__Beckett led them to a small room near the back of the building, which contained a couch and a television and a small fridge. Alicia had managed to last all morning without anything to drink, so she figured she’d earned a refreshment. She poured herself some of the excellent bourbon she could only get in the Capitol, and looked at Beckett expectantly._ _

__“We just have to wait for the others to get here,” Beckett said. Alicia’s eyes widened._ _

__“Others?”_ _

__The door opened, and Vicky-T walked in, followed by Zach from District 11, and then Alex from District 6. The older one._ _

__“What’s going on?” Alicia asked, but everyone ignored her._ _

__“Is it secure?” Beckett asked, and Zach replied._ _

__“We can talk freely in here for the next fifteen minutes,” he said. Alicia hadn’t been expecting _that_._ _

__“What’s going on?” she said more insistently._ _

__Finally, they all looked at her._ _

__“We needed to talk to you,” Beckett said. “We’re working on a way to save Frank. And Gerard, and any other tributes we can, I’m not exactly keen to die. But mainly Frank. He’s the one that the public, especially the Capitol, has latched onto.”_ _

__Alicia felt dizzy. “That’s impossible,” she said._ _

__“Not really,” Beckett replied. “We’ve got allies. Powerful allies. They’re putting things into motion. But we need you on board; you can convince Frank to do what he needs to do.”_ _

__“You’re deluded if you think I can convince Frank of anything,” Alicia said harshly._ _

__Beckett looked annoyed, and glanced over to Vicky who stepped in._ _

__“Come on, Alicia,” she said softly. “I know you don’t want to just stand back and let these Games play out. You must want to stop this as much as we do.”_ _

__Alicia blinked at her. She mentally shook herself. She couldn’t be swayed by anyone’s arguments, no matter how pretty they were. “I don’t trust any of you,” she whispered, speaking to Vicky alone although she knew Beckett and Alex could hear. “You think you can count on him? A career?” she asked with a nod at Beckett. “Why would the Capitol’s lapdogs be trying to screw up their Games? And him?” she asked of Alex. “If it’s a choice between your secret and a fix, what do you think he’ll choose?”_ _

__“Please, Alicia,” Vicky said, stepping into Alicia’s space and taking her hand. “Please listen...”_ _

__“Stop it!” Alicia stepped away. “Stop trying to, to manipulate me!” She felt her face going hot. “This isn’t going to work, you, with your...” she waved a hand vaguely, trying to encompass Vicky-T’s _everythingness_. “How dare you drag me in here, and tell me you’ve got a _plan_ , that you’re going to save them. Tell me something real, tell me something I can believe.”_ _

__Vicky looked at Alicia for a few long seconds. Then she grabbed her by the shoulders and pushed her back against the wall. “How about this?” she snapped. “The only reason you’re so pissed at us is because you were too much of a coward to try to come up with something on your own. Be honest, when Frank volunteered in your place it was the happiest day of your life, and now you’re mad because we’re going to put your life at risk anyway. And we will, because this is too important to give up because you’re _afraid_.” She pressed her lips to Alicia’s, and the kiss was harsh, and hot. Alicia kissed her back for several seconds before she remembered that she was angry, and pushed her away._ _

__“Huh,” said Beckett. “I was going to say we might get our Gamemaker friend to talk with you, but that’ll work too, I guess.”_ _

__“You have a Gamemaker working with you?” Alicia asked in disbelief._ _

__“I said we had powerful allies,” Beckett answered smugly._ _

__Alicia started to ask another question, but Beckett silenced her with a wave of his hand. “We’re out of time,” he said. “We need to go now. One at a time, and pretend you’ve got somewhere to be.”_ _

__Alicia wasn’t quite won over yet. Beckett was the President’s pet; there was nothing to say he wasn’t laying some elaborate trap for Alicia for reasons too obscure for her to detect. Alex wasn’t trustworthy; he’d probably do anything to keep the drugs coming. But Vicky-T had no reason to like the Capitol and had no exploitable weaknesses that Alicia was aware of. Her involvement had done more than anything else to convince Alicia the whole scheme was legitimate._ _

__She wished that she could talk to someone about it, and make sure she wasn’t making a mistake, but there was no one. Frank and Gerard were more clueless than she was, and had their own worries besides. She was sure that Pete had no awareness of anything that was going on outside his own little bubble. Earlier that day, Frank had revealed that he’d somehow convinced Patrick to arrange for him to be tattooed. He now had two mockingjays permanently inked on his back. Pete had enthusiastically praised the tattoos without showing any awareness that the mockingjays had a deeper meaning._ _

__Patrick... he seemed a little more aware of what was going on. Alicia thought she could probably confide in him without putting herself in danger, but on the other hand it might not be safe for Patrick. She would have to manage on her own._ _

__Alicia tried to convince Frank and Gerard to make friendly with the other tributes. Whether Beckett was telling the truth or not, a good alliance could make the difference between life and death for one of them. Frank was reluctant to trust any of the tributes, but eventually he took a shine to the District 3 pair, Shane and Bebe. As tributes went, they were only slightly more useful than the District 6 Alexes, but Beckett seemed pleased, even though Frank was still refusing to speak to him._ _

__The morning of the private training, Alicia went down to talk to potential sponsors as usual, and Travis McCoy stopped her in the hallway._ _

__“Ms Simmons,” he said pleasantly, while Alicia panicked and wondered what horrible thing the Gamemaker was going to do to her. “It’s such a pleasure to see you... looking better.”_ _

__Alicia gritted her teeth. At the Hunger Games two years earlier, the ones before Gerard and Frank’s, she’d drunk herself into unconsciousness and nearly drowned in a fountain. It wasn’t as though McCoy had mentioned it specifically or anything, but looking at his smirking face she could only imagine he was thinking of that incident – or one of the others. There wasn’t exactly a shortage of them._ _

__“How is Patrick managing with the preparations for the interviews tomorrow?” he asked._ _

__“Just fine,” Alicia said, trying to get the conversation over with as quickly as possible. “He’s very good,” she added, when McCoy neither replied nor moved away._ _

__“He is that!” McCoy responded enthusiastically. “His designs have sparked a real trend here in the Capitol. I don’t know how things are out in the districts,” he paused significantly, “But here, a day never goes by where I don’t see a mockingjay or something on fire._ _

__Alicia glanced sidelong at McCoy, only to jerk her eyes away when she realised he was watching her closely. Her heart raced. Was McCoy onto her? She hadn’t even done anything!_ _

__“Even I’ve joined in the fun,” McCoy added, rolling up one sleeve to reveal a wristwatch. “I had to pay a considerable commission to get this exclusive design made up. It’s one of a kind.” He passed a thumb over the watch face, and for just a moment, the image of a mockingjay in flight glowed brightly before disappearing once more._ _

__Alicia was too shaken to say anything. She stood frozen for a few seconds before McCoy said, “Oh, and now, look at the time. You’ll have to excuse me; I’m needed in the training rooms.” He bustled away quickly, leaving Alicia behind._ _

__It was all true, then. The plan and the conspirators. It was real; if Travis McCoy was trying to trick her, he wouldn’t have done it like this._ _

__Alicia went back to the twelfth floor to start planning what she could say to make Frank ally with Beckett._ _

__*******_ _

__Last time Gerard had had to go in for the private training, he’d been terribly nervous. This time, it was different. He didn’t even know what he was going to do, but he couldn’t bring himself to care._ _

__He looked around the room, dismissing the weapons he didn’t know how to use and the other equipment he didn’t even recognise. His eyes fell on the camouflage materials and he went over to them. There were no paints, but there were dyes. That would work._ _

__There was nothing to use as a canvas, so eventually Gerard cleared a space on the floor and used that. He had to work quickly, mixing colours and brushing them onto the ground without any of his usual precision. He tried to keep himself between the picture and the Gamemakers, blocking their view as much as he could. He was aware of the moment when they all realised what he was painting. He was just relieved that he’d managed to render Jamia well enough that she could be recognised._ _

__He’d only seen the image once, during the replay at the final interview after they’d won last year, but it had stuck in his mind because of how it had affected Frank. He’d been so broken, so devastated by his failure to save that one little girl. It wasn’t his fault, though. It was the Gamemakers who had killed her. Gerard wasn’t fooling himself that he could make them realise that, but he needed to try._ _

__He waited until he was curtly dismissed from the room, and went back to the twelfth floor to wait for the announcement of the scores. At least this year he might actually have outdone Frank in audaciousness. He didn’t think Frank would shoot at the Gamemakers a second time._ _

__*************_ _

__Alicia was disgusted with both of them. They had to realise how serious the situation was. There wasn’t any way they could have missed it, and yet they had managed to fall beneath her very low expectations._ _

__Frank’s stupidity wasn’t such a surprise. Alicia had more or less resigned herself to the idea that Frank’s training would be a complete disaster. He was too combative, didn’t know when to pick his battles. Stringing up a dummy with the previous Head Gamemaker’s name on it... she’d been hoping he wouldn’t be quite that idiotic, but she’d just have to remember not to overestimate him again._ _

__Gerard, though... Alicia had started thinking of him as the sensible, reliable one. Which had clearly been a foolish thing to do. Bringing up Jamia’s death wasn’t going to do them any favours, either._ _

__As they waited for the presentation of the scores, Gerard nervously asked if the judges had ever awarded a zero before, and Alicia snapped that there was always a first time. They fell into an awkward silence as Brian Schechter ran through the tributes scores, from Beckett’s score of ten to the Alex’s score of three each. Alicia was expecting Frank and Gerard to get very low scores. Zeroes were well within the realm of possibility. But she was proven wrong again when the two of them received a score of twelve. Each._ _

__That didn’t happen. Ever. No one had ever been awarded a twelve, not in the history of the Games. Alicia watched the scores flash on the screen and knew that it wasn’t a good thing._ _

__“They did that so the others will have to target you first,” she said tightly. “Go to bed. I can’t stand to look at either of you.”_ _

__**********_ _

__Alicia sat up for several more hours, grumpily flicking around to different television stations and trying to find a program which wasn’t talking about the Hunger Games. That proved impossible, so she turned the set off and went towards her own bedroom._ _

__Halfway there, she saw movement and stopped in her tracks. It was Patrick and Pete, standing by a window and talking softly. Alicia felt like she was intruding, and wanted to leave, but to go to her own bed she’d have to walk through the room and disturb them. As she waited, Pete leaned in towards Patrick and they kissed. He said something then, and the two of them laughed softly. Patrick took Pete’s hand and led him out of the room._ _

__Alicia waited a minute before following them. Her own room was off the same passage, and she didn’t want to interrupt. If they could be happy, then they should have that. Someone should be happy._ _

__************_ _

__Alicia never really took much notice of fashion. In District 12, no one had the money or time to care about such things, and when she came to the Capitol, the clothes and makeup they wore always seemed garish and horrible to her. Still, she’d always been able to recognise Patrick’s skill, his ability to create costumes which went beyond style to make a statement which everyone could understand. And he’d managed to do it again._ _

__Gerard was dressed in tight, tight pants – (“Are they real, or just painted on?” Alicia had asked,) and a jacket which made him look a lot tougher than he actually was. Frank was wearing dark pants too, but not as tight, with a loose fitting shirt. The sleeves in particular were huge, and there was something on them, some sort of design, but Alicia overheard Patrick telling Frank not to lift up his arms until the very end of the interview, so she didn’t ask him about it._ _

__During the interviews it became clear that none of the tributes, and very few in the audience, were really excited about this year’s Games. The tributes questioned whether the Games were legal, whether there was any way the President could call the whole thing off or any chance of convincing him to do so. By the time Schechter got around to interviewing Frank, Alicia was sure there was not a single dry eye in the whole audience._ _

__When Frank came out it took a while for the audience to settle down enough for him to say anything. Eventually, Schechter got the crowd under control and he asked some fairly routine questions. Frank answered them, and then Schechter made some comment about Frank’s costume._ _

__“It’s amazing, isn’t it?” he said. “I’ve been so lucky to have Patrick for a stylist.” And he stood up, and lifted his arms, and suddenly he was engulfed by smoke._ _

__The crowd reacted with shock and Alicia herself gasped in surprise. She realised quickly, however, that of course Patrick was behind this, and Frank was in no danger. Flames crackled over the shirt, but Frank didn’t seem hurt and showed no sign of being afraid. After a minute or so, the fire burned out and Frank was left wearing the same shirt he was before, but the colour of it was dark red, not white, and it was covered with feathers. He was still holding his arms out, and the sleeves hung down to his knees, like wings. They were wings._ _

__“You look like a bird,” Schechter said in wonder._ _

__“A mockingjay,” Frank corrected, and Alicia wanted to slap herself. Of course he was a mockingjay. What else?_ _

__She looked for Patrick in the small backstage room where they were waiting. Maybe Patrick wasn’t as switched on as she’d thought. Maybe he really did think the mockingjay was just a trendy fashion symbol._ _

__But then her eyes landed on Patrick, and he looked back at her, his gaze steady and knowing. And Alicia realised he did know. He’d been completely aware of what he’d been doing when he’d put all his skill into one last show for the districts. Korse wouldn’t give him another chance._ _

__**************_ _

__Alicia was ready for bed after all that excitement, but when she arrived back at the Training Centre Vicky caught her eye. Alicia muttered an excuse and left the others at the elevators, meeting Vicky on the other side of the lobby._ _

__“Nice outfit,” she remarked. Vicky’s costume was not quite as bad as the one from the Opening Ceremony, but the bark patterned bodysuit looked pretty tacky._ _

__“Well, it’s no mockingjay shirt, but I’ll live,” Vicky answered, inflecting her words with subtle emphasis._ _

__“Is everything ready for tomorrow?”_ _

__“Everything, except you still haven’t convinced Frank to accept an alliance. He hates me, he hates Beckett. He is one surly little shit.”_ _

__“He’s stubborn,” Alicia allowed. “He likes Bebe and Shane. Maybe if you join up with them, watch their backs, he might ease up.”_ _

__“Seriously? God, I don’t know if I can deal with those two.”_ _

__Alicia shrugged. It was the best suggestion she had._ _

__“You have any bright ideas for Beckett?”_ _

__“I already talked to him,” Alicia said. She’d given him a bangle, a gold one that he could wear as a token. It wouldn’t mean anything to anyone except Frank and Gerard, because she’d made sure they’d seen her wearing it for the past few days. If she told them they had to ally with Beckett, they’d argue with her. If she waited until they were in the arena to effectively give her order, they’d have no choice._ _

__“That’s good, then.” Vicky sighed, and looked at Alicia for a second too long. “Are you going to wish me good luck?”_ _

__“You’re going to need a hell of a lot more than good luck.”_ _

__“You’ve got a point there.” Vicky grinned wickedly. “Maybe I should be asking for a thrilling sendoff instead.”_ _

__Alicia groaned. “Are you like this with every girl you like?”_ _

__Vicky laughed softly, seeming uncomfortable. “I wouldn’t really know. I don’t really like anyone. And I know you know what that’s like,” she added with a pointed look. “So, sorry if I’m bothering you, I guess, but I can’t really see the point in being coy right now. I’m not going to care much about making a fool of myself once I’m dead.”_ _

__Alicia was caught off guard by the quiet admission. She put her hand to Vicky’s jaw, and kissed her lips lightly. “Don’t you dare die,” she threatened. “I’ll be waiting for you. If you don’t make it, I’ll be pissed.”_ _

__Vicky grinned. “I’m sure I’ll be fine. I’m extremely motivated.”_ _

__**********_ _

__The trip to the arena the next morning passed in strained silence. A few times, one of them tried to say something, but they couldn’t keep any conversation going beyond a sentence or two. There didn’t seem to be any point._ _

__They arrived at the vast underground complex which lay beneath the arena, and after a brief discussion, Alicia followed Gerard to his launch room while Patrick went with Frank. Pete remained with their transport, which was probably for the best for everyone involved._ _

__Gerard looked pale and scared as Alicia encouraged him to stand on the platform and take some deep breaths. She considered getting him to eat something. There was always food provided, but one look at Gerard’s face and she decided it wasn’t the time to be feeding him._ _

__“Good luck,” she said. It was a trite, meaningless phrase, but anything would be, and she had to say something. “Remember what I said, about working with the other tributes. It’s the best way.”_ _

__Gerard nodded, and then the tube was coming down and the platform was lifting up. Alicia watched until he was out of sight._ _

__She went back to the small area where Pete was waiting. “All done?” he asked with a wan smile. She wasn’t used to seeing Pete smile in a way that didn’t use his entire face. It didn’t look right._ _

__“Yeah,” she said. “Let’s wait for Patrick, and then we’ll go.”_ _

__They waited a minute, maybe two. Frank’s launch room must have been further away than Gerard’s, because there was no reason for Patrick to be taking so long otherwise._ _

__“Let’s go look for him,” Pete suggested, when a few more minutes had passed with no sign of Patrick._ _

__They couldn’t exactly just wander around the complex underneath the arena unsupervised. They went a short way down the corridor when a Peacekeeper stopped them, and said, “You need to go back to your transport now.”_ _

__“We’re still waiting for Patrick,” said Pete. “Patrick Stump? He’s supposed to be coming with us. Do you know where he is?”_ _

__The Peacekeeper looked at them impassively. “Mr. Stump won’t be coming with you. Go back to the transport now.”_ _

__Pete shook his head slowly. “No, that’s not right. Patrick came in with us; if we leave him here, he won’t have any way to get home.” Pete moved to try to step around the Peacekeeper, and the Peacekeeper put a hand firmly on his shoulder._ _

__“Pete...” said Alicia warily._ _

__“Mr. Stump has left already,” the Peacekeeper said. “Please return to your transport now._ _

__“We’re not leaving without Patrick!” Pete snapped. “Patrick!” he shouted. “Patrick!”_ _

__“Pete, stop it,” Alicia said urgently. If someone tried to pull this sort of thing back in District 12, they would already have been knocked down or arrested. The Peacekeeper hadn’t done anything like that yet, but she didn’t want to know where Pete’s leeway as a Capitol citizen ran out. “We have to go.” Patrick was already gone, that was obvious. He might already be dead. Alicia had hoped retaliation wouldn’t happen so soon. She wondered who had come for Patrick, and what they had done to him. Had he been with Frank at the time? If so, Frank would be beside himself._ _

__“I’m not leaving!” Pete yelled. He shouted Patrick’s name again, and with a glance at the Peacekeeper, Alicia grabbed his arm and dragged him back towards the transport. It was a struggle to move him, but the Peacekeeper took Pete’s other arm, and together they got him back to the transport. Pete screamed for Patrick the whole way._ _

__“I don’t understand!” he said. “He was so good! He was a genius! He did everything for their stupid Games!”_ _

__“I’m sorry, Pete,” said Alicia, for lack of anything better to say._ _

__“Maybe the other stylists are behind it. They must have been jealous of him. We should have told the Peacekeepers to be more careful.”_ _

__Alicia hmmed, and didn’t say anything, because it was obvious to anyone paying attention that it wasn’t the other stylists who had caused Patrick’s disappearance._ _

__“Why did they do it?” Pete asked tearfully. “I’m sure he didn’t mean to upset anyone, or do anything wrong. Maybe, maybe if he says he’s sorry, they’ll let him come back.”_ _

__“Maybe,” Alicia said slowly. She couldn’t think of anything less likely, but with Pete looking at her, pleading for the slightest crumb of hope, she couldn’t disagree with him._ _

__Pete wiped his face down and straightened up. “We need to make sure Frank or Gerard wins,” he said firmly. “We’ve got to have some good news to give Patrick when he gets back.”_ _

__“Yeah,” Alicia said weakly. If everything worked the way it was supposed to, these Games wouldn’t have any winner at all._ _

__**********_ _

__Alicia wasn’t too impressed that she had to spend the entire journey back to the Capitol comforting Pete, instead of watching the start of the Games like she should have been doing. The moment she reached the highest floor of the training centre, she switched on the television and blinked at the image she saw._ _

__The arena this year was tropical, beautiful. The Cornucopia sat on a tiny island in the middle of a turquoise sea. Strips of land ran out from the island like spokes on a wheel, and the sea was surrounded by white sandy beaches. Beyond the beach was a jungle of trees of a type Alicia didn’t recognise._ _

__A few of the tributes were still fighting over weapons at the Cornucopia. Frank and Gerard weren’t among them. Alicia waited with clenched fists, and the scene cut to a shot of Zach from District 11, walking along the beach. And then, finally, she saw Frank and Gerard._ _

__They were with Beckett, and the other District 4 tribute, Charlotte. Alicia felt greatly relieved that Frank had apparently listened to her, despite his distrust of Beckett. They had all been in the water, and sand stuck to their damp clothes. Frank was carrying a bow and two quivers filled with arrows. Gerard was wearing a large knife in a sheath on his belt. They both seemed unhurt._ _

__It was good to see that they were okay so far. Alicia hadn’t really expected them to be killed in the first hour, but there had been that nagging doubt, the knowledge that it was a possibility, no matter how remote. Not all the tributes were part of Beckett’s plan._ _

__Alicia left the television on and went to research as much as she could about the environment they’d been put in. She tried to keep one eye on the television as she did so. The tributes fighting at the Cornucopia finally dispersed, and the cannon rang out, signaling eight deaths. A few minutes later, one of the District 9 tributes met a district 1 tribute in the jungle, and there was a short fight which led to the tribute from District 9 being killed._ _

__The cameras went back to the District 12 and 4 group after that, and Alicia listened in as she looked up the types of animals that might be living in the jungle._ _

__“They’re getting awfully close to the edge of the arena,” said one of the commentators, and Alicia put all her attention on the television._ _

__The arena must be very small if they’d already reached the edge of it. “Of course,” the other commentator added, “The edge of the arena is invisible to the naked eye. It’s possible that one of them might accidentally – oh, no! There he goes!”_ _

__“No!” Alicia shouted, because while the commentators prattled on, Gerard had walked right into the electric force field surrounding the arena, and it had tossed him back like a limp rag._ _

__“Oh, dear. Is he dead, do you think?”_ _

__“It always takes a few moments for the heart rate monitors to register a fatality. We should know quite soon...”_ _

__“Shut up, shut up, shut up,” Alicia chanted, putting her hands over her ears to block out the horrible words. Gerard wasn’t moving. Frank and Beckett were bustling around him, and seemed to be arguing about something, but Gerard was still, and Alicia was stupid. She wasn’t supposed to care about any of them. She wasn’t supposed to do things which weren’t safe. When had she forgotten about keeping herself safe?_ _

__************_ _

__Gerard was definitely going to cut back on the drinking. This was the worse hangover yet. Not only did he feel weak and sore, his right hand and arm was covered in small burns. He must have had some accident before he passed out._ _

__“Oh, crap,” he mumbled, trying to coordinate his limbs enough to sit up. He wasn’t sure why it was so difficult. Just how much had he had to drink?_ _

__“Gerard?” Frank’s voice asked anxiously. “Gerard, you’re alive! Are you okay?”_ _

__“Ugh,” Gerard groaned. With Frank’s voice, his memory was starting to come back. It wasn’t really doing much to improve the situation. “Oh, man. What happened?”_ _

__“You walked into the force field at the edge of the arena,” Frank explained. “Beckett, here...” Gerard opened his eyes to see Frank frowning. “Beckett saved your life. Gave you some, uh... see-pee-are.”_ _

__“Oh,” Gerard gasped._ _

__“How do you feel?”_ _

__“Not so good.”_ _

__“Yeah.” Frank paused. “We need to move away from here. Do you think you can stand up?”_ _

__Gerard didn’t really think he could stand, but that didn’t deter Frank and William from getting him on his feet anyway. He had to lean on Frank to walk, but Frank didn’t seem to mind._ _

__“It’s a good thing you’re at the perfect leaning height for me,” Gerard joked. “If our positions were reversed, we’d have a problem.”_ _

__“Very funny, asshole.”_ _

__They walked for ages. By throwing twigs and stones ahead of them, they were able to keep track of the force field. As they travelled, it became clear that the force field curved, forcing them to move in a circle. Frank stopped them so that he could climb a tree and get a view of the arena. He returned to the ground and described the arena as perfectly round, with the Cornucopia on its island sitting directly in the middle._ _

__They stopped at dusk and began to make a camp. They hadn’t found any food, but more worryingly, they hadn’t seen any source of clean water. There had to be some somewhere; there hadn’t been any water at the Cornucopia, so they had to be able to find it somewhere else in the arena. But where that might be, Gerard had no idea._ _

__They’d been settling in for around fifteen minutes when Gerard noticed a fog descending. It didn’t seem quite right, though. It was definitely coming from the outer edge of the arena, and advancing too quickly to be natural. “What is that?” he asked, pointing._ _

__No one seemed to know, but Frank said, “I think we should move away,” and they all agreed. Frank was standing closest to the mist, and the droplets must have reached him, because he jerked away with a hiss. “It burns!” he said. “Quick, let’s get away from here!”_ _

__It wasn’t as simple as running from the mist. It was dark, and they had to make their way through the trees with little light. Gerard was still unsteady on his own legs after being electrocuted, and Charlotte, while she could walk well enough, was in her seventies and not really up to running. In the end, Beckett picked her up and slung her over his shoulder, running ahead. Gerard wished Frank could do the same thing with him, but there was no hope of that._ _

__“You’ve got to go faster,” Frank grunted, tightening his grip on Gerard’s waist. The mist had caught up to them, and Gerard could feel the stinging burn against his skin._ _

__“I can’t,” Gerard gasped. He tried anyway, and nearly fell over. It wasn’t that he was tired, exactly. He was, but adrenaline had taken that off his mind quite effectively. It was just almost impossible to make his limbs do what he wanted them to do._ _

__The burning from the mist started to extend up Gerard’s legs and down his arms. He tripped again, and this time Frank stumbled too. “Beckett!” Frank yelled. “Beckett, help!”_ _

__William was ahead of them, with Charlotte. He looked back and frowned at their plight. “Let’s swap,” he said to Frank, and without another word he put Charlotte down next to Frank and tossed Gerard over his shoulder._ _

__“Really?” Gerard said as William started to run. “I mean, sure. Okay,” he added when William didn’t respond. He’d wished to be carried earlier, but now that he was, it was actually a little humiliating. If it got them to safety, though, Gerard didn’t care all that much._ _

__Frank still wasn’t keeping up, though. Gerard could hear him gasping in pain. Charlotte, too. They hadn’t gone too far when William stopped again._ _

__“We’re not gonna make it,” Frank said._ _

__“I’m sorry,” William gasped. “I can’t... I can’t carry them both.”_ _

__He was telling the truth, Gerard knew. He could feel William shaking from the strain. He wasn’t sure how far away the beach was, but if it wasn’t close then they were pretty much screwed._ _

__Charlotte walked to William then. She put a hand on his face and kissed his cheek, and then she walked back, back into the mist. The fog obscured her body before they saw what happened to her. William gave a broken sound, like a sob, but Frank only said, “We have to hurry,” and led the way onwards._ _

__They’d gone only a few steps when the cannon sounded. William jerked and nearly dropped Gerard, but Frank was on his other side and they kept going. It was a few more long, agonising minutes before they reached the beach. Gerard wondered what they would do if the mist kept coming, but it didn’t. It stopped at the edge of the jungle, and the three of them collapsed onto the sand, exhausted._ _

__Gerard examined the burns on his skin which the mist had left. They were worst on his hands and face, which were uncovered, but the rest of him had burns as well, and the light clothes he’d been given to wear were irritating them. He stripped off the suit with no care for modesty and tossed it aside, and sat on the sand in only his underwear._ _

__The traces of mist were still visible at the edge of the jungle, but after a while it started to fade away gradually. A little distance away, the three of them heard an odd clicking noise. It was unnerving, but didn’t seem to be getting any closer, so they didn’t worry about it too much._ _

__William sat a little distance away and ignored them when they tried to speak to him._ _

__It was Frank who discovered that the salty sea water would soothe their burns. Sinking into the water was painful at first, but followed by blissful relief. The sun had set, but it didn’t get very cold, which was just as well, because they felt too exposed on the beach to light a fire and weren’t willing to risk going back into the jungle to get wood in any case. Frank and William agreed to take turns keeping watch so they could all get some sleep. Gerard went to sleep reluctantly, but was startled awake not too much later when a huge bolt of lightning came out of the sky and hit a tree over on the other side of the arena._ _

__“What the fuck?” Gerard asked, rubbing his blurry eyes. “Is there a storm?”_ _

__There was a storm, but it wasn’t behaving like a storm should. The lightning was confined to one area, and it went on and on until it disappeared as suddenly as it had begun._ _

__“It’s the Gamemakers,” said Frank. “I wonder if anyone was killed?”_ _

__There was no cannon, and when things stayed quiet the three of them relaxed. “Go back to sleep, Gee,” Frank said._ _

__“You’re going to wake me up, right? I should have a turn on watch too.”_ _

__“You need more rest, you’re still getting over that shock...”_ _

__“I’m fine! Promise you’ll wake me up!”_ _

__“Okay, Gerard, you got it.”_ _

__Frank had given in too easily, and Gerard was sure he’d just promised to get him to shut up. He was proven right when he woke up the next morning to sunlight. He glared at Frank, who had the audacity to shrug at him and say, “What?”_ _

__“You know what, jerk.”_ _

__They had to move on after that, and they kept to the beach, moving the opposite direction to the way they had travelled the day before. It had been an hour, or maybe two, when they heard the sound of several people moving through the jungle. Frank drew an arrow while William grabbed his knife. The two of them stepped in front of Gerard, who didn’t protest. The two of them were much more capable fighters, and he knew it._ _

__Finally, they glimpsed the group which was moving towards the beach. There were three of them, and when the first of them stepped out of the trees, Gerard recognised Vicky-T. William laughed and lowered his knife, and Frank said “What the hell?”_ _

__“You found us!” William said. “Do you have...” he trailed off as the two people with Vicky emerged. Shane and Bebe, from District 3._ _

__“You’re with them?” Frank asked, adjusting his aim to target William._ _

__“We’re with you,” Vicky replied. “You didn’t think I dragged these two along for shits and giggles, did you? If I hadn’t had them to worry about, I would have caught up with you yesterday. But Alicia said you wanted these two, that if I wanted in, I had to bring them along.” She paused and waited for a response, adding “Well?” when Frank and Gerard remained silent._ _

__Frank looked over at Gerard. He didn’t look happy. Frank hadn’t wanted to team up with anyone else, Gerard knew that. He’d wanted it to be just the two of them. Gerard figured he was still dealing with Jamia’s death the year before, and didn’t want to risk getting close to anyone else only to have them die. Gerard could sympathise, but really, they had no hope of making it out if it was just the two of them. He tilted his head, and Frank sighed._ _

__“Fine,” he snapped. “I guess that’s what everyone else wants, so... fine.”_ _

__They kept moving along the beach, and as they went Gerard explained about the night they’d had, and the mist. Vicky talked about her night. She and the other two had stayed closer to the beach, and very early in the morning a giant wave had crashed ashore and swamped everything. They had been just far enough out of its path to avoid being swept away._ _

__“Unbelievable,” Vicky said. “I don’t know what the Gamemakers are messing with this year, but there’s some fucked up shit going on.”_ _

__“Mister Wolf,” Shane added then, surprising everyone. “What’s the time?”_ _

__“He keeps asking that,” Vicky grumbled. “You should have worn a watch if you wanted to know the time so badly, fool.”_ _

__“Back off him,” Bebe said._ _

__Vicky turned on her. “You keep him under control then, if you don’t want me hurting his precious feelings.”_ _

__Vicky hadn’t found any water either, and they were all starting to feel it. Bebe was explaining a way that they could get drinking water from the sea, and they were almost becoming desperate enough to try it, despite the fact that it would be difficult and time consuming, when a small parachute dropped out of the sky towards them._ _

__“Let’s hope it’s water,” Vicky said. The gift landed a few feet away, but it wasn’t water. William detached it from the parachute and examined it. It was an odd looking device, a small metal tube with one sharp end and the other curved._ _

__“What on earth...” William said._ _

__“Fucking useless,” Vicky muttered. “Our sponsors must be idiots.”_ _

__Gerard looked over at Frank. “There must be something we’re not getting,” he said. “Alicia wouldn’t send us something useless.”_ _

__“I know,” Frank replied. “But can you figure out what that’s supposed to do?”_ _

__In the end, it was Bebe who figured it out. When pushed into a tree trunk, past the layer of bark, water flowed through the tube and could be collected. Of course, they had no buckets or bottles, so they each had to take their turn drinking directly from the tube, but it was a relief to know they wouldn’t die of dehydration._ _

__They drank from three trees before they had all slaked their thirst. Gerard was easing the tube out of the third tree, trying to be gentle and avoid damaging it, when he heard a sound which made him forget everything else._ _

__It was a scream. Not just any scream, though... he knew that voice._ _

__“Mikey?” he yelled. “Mikey!”_ _

__Gerard ran towards the sound, ignoring Frank and the others calling after him, asking him to stop. “Mikey!” he yelled again. It was his brother’s voice, and he was in pain. He raced through the trees, but didn’t seem to get any closer to the sound. He stopped after a few minutes, and listened, his chest heaving. The scream came again, but his eyes fell on a bird sitting on a low tree branch. It was a jabberjay._ _

__Gerard was overwhelmed with relief. It wasn’t Mikey at all; just a bird that had been taught to imitate a sound Gerard knew. Mikey was safe._ _

__He turned around to head back, and found William following him. “It’s okay,” Gerard said. “They’re just jabberjays; look.”_ _

__William didn’t look reassured, but said, “We should go back to the others.” They started to walk back, but a different scream rang out. It was a woman’s voice this time, one Gerard didn’t recognise. It had a profound effect on William, though, and he turned around, calling out “Z!”_ _

__“It’s not real, remember?” Gerard asked, grabbing William’s arm. “It’s just the jabberjays.”_ _

__William shook his head, looking solemn. “They learned those sounds somehow, Gerard, use your head!”_ _

__Gerard gulped. He hadn’t thought of that. Just because Mikey wasn’t here, being tortured in the middle of the jungle, didn’t mean he was safe. Would the Gamemakers really hurt his brother just to perfect their psychological weapon? That was a stupid question. Of course they would._ _

__The screams kept coming, in Mikey’s and the woman’s voices, and Gerard wanted to curl up on the ground and sob. William kept him upright, though, and dragged him away. “We can’t do anything about it. We just need to get out of here,” he said. He was right, and Gerard knew that, but it was only William’s strong grip that kept him on his feet._ _

__They came within view of the others eventually, but couldn’t reach them. An invisible wall stood between Gerard and William, and the rest of their group. It wasn’t electric, like the force field that had nearly killed Gerard the day before. It was just solid and seemed to be impenetrable. Perhaps they could have tried to go around it, but William seemed to lose his resolve at the obstacle and sank to the ground, and Gerard followed him._ _

__Frank came right up to the wall. Gerard could see his lips moving, but no sound crossed over. All he could hear were Mikey’s cries, sounds he was making because of decisions Gerard had made and actions he had taken. All he could hear was his brother’s suffering, and all he knew was that it was his fault, for daring to live when he should have died._ _

__Gerard didn’t realise the wall had gone until he felt Frank’s hands on him, Frank’s arms holding him tight. It was only then that he noticed the jungle had gone quiet. It didn’t matter. He could still hear every scream in his mind._ _

__In the end, Gerard had to explain what had happened. William had gone quiet again, and didn’t even seem to notice when he was spoken to. Gerard described what he and William had heard, and although he didn’t talk about his guilt, his responsibility for Mikey’s pain, he was sure Frank, at least, understood._ _

__It was Bebe, though, who offered some real reassurance. “Don’t worry, Gerard, I’m sure your brother is fine.”_ _

__“But...”_ _

__“They won’t do anything to Mikey while the Games are still running. What if you win and they want to interview your family? They probably used audio technology to create those sounds, using recordings of your brother’s normal voice.”_ _

__“They can do that?”_ _

__“Yes.” Bebe nodded emphatically. “It’s actually really simple. Easier, probably, than abducting someone and torturing them.”_ _

__Gerard wasn’t sure how much faith to put in Bebe’s word, but he wanted to believe her. He wanted believe so much that he convinced himself that it had to be true. It was the practical thing to do, he told himself. He couldn’t help Mikey. They only thing he could do was try to keep Frank alive, and to do that he couldn’t let himself be distracted._ _

__Mikey was fine. He had to be._ _

__**********_ _

__“So it’s a clock?”_ _

__“Yeah,” Pete replied. “That lightning bolt strikes at twelve o’clock, noon and midnight.”_ _

__Alicia was just glad to get any reply out of him at all. He’d been moping around ever since Patrick had disappeared. She tried to be sympathetic, but mostly she felt annoyed, angry that she had to worry about coddling Pete when she had more than enough problems of her own to worry about. He should have known better, anyway. Should have realised that it was a mistake to care about other people. Other people were just a weapon for the Capitol to use. Alicia knew that; it was why she pushed everyone away._ _

__Except that last part wasn’t true anymore, anyway. She used to keep everyone at arm’s length, but that had changed. There were at least two people in the arena right now whose deaths would destroy her. Maybe more._ _

__Alicia kept watching, anxious for the tributes to figure out the design of the arena. With two people as bright as Shane and Bebe involved, she was a bit surprised they hadn’t done so already. But it actually took another night for them to figure it out, and it was Frank who was the first to do so. Well, she supposed that Shane had actually been the first, but he hadn’t been able to explain it to anyone else._ _

__By this point, half the tributes were dead. Ian Crawford had been killed by the District 2 tributes, Kevin Jonas and Mike Carden, who were working together. Alicia had never liked those two. Haley, who Alicia had vaguely known, had been ripped apart by some horrible beast. It hadn’t shown up very well on the TV screen, but it had looked sort of like the dog-like creatures they had used last year, only bigger, and much nastier. Frank, Gerard and the rest of their group had gotten off fairly lightly. They’d been attacked by carnivorous monkeys, but they’d all survived. Alicia had been surprised and touched when the younger Alex from District 6 ran towards them while they were being attacked, and threw himself over Gerard to protect him from one of the monkeys. He’d died from his injuries, and Alicia could tell that Frank and Gerard were baffled as to why he’d done it. She hoped they didn’t get suspicious. She would never have expected Alex to sacrifice his life like that, but maybe she’d underestimated how highly regarded Frank and Gerard were in the other districts._ _

__Alicia didn’t know exactly how McCoy was planning to carry out the rescue, but she didn’t need to. She’d asked, and McCoy had replied that the less people knew details, the safer it was. She couldn’t exactly argue with that logic, although she didn’t like having so little information._ _

__The group of tributes Alicia had started to think of as hers travelled back to the Cornucopia to test their ‘clock’ theory. Alicia watched with a growing sense of anxiety. They were making themselves too exposed, doing this, and sure enough, just a few minutes later the screen showed the District 1 tributes, Tom Conrad and Amanda Palmer, creeping along one of the land strips towards the Cornucopia. The commentators were greatly excited by this development._ _

___“Oh, my, this could be quite the epic battle here! District 1 against 4, 3 and 12! I wonder if they’ll realise what danger they’re in...”_ _ _

__The commentators were always idiotic and irritating, but Alicia was finding them a lot harder to tolerate than usual. She was nearly reduced to yelling at the screen when Frank and Beckett seemed to realise, at the same time, what was happening. They sprang into action, Vicky shortly after them, while Bebe and Gerard tried to stay out of the way. Shane, though...._ _

__He hadn’t moved fast enough, Alicia could see that. He’d been killed before the others had had a chance to do anything. He dropped to the ground and Alicia felt like all the air had gone from the room. She’d known that this was going to happen, that people were going to die. Seeing it happen was still almost beyond her endurance._ _

__The camera angles changed rapidly and it made Alicia frantic. She couldn’t tell, from one moment to the next, if Frank and Gerard were still okay. She was expecting at any moment to hear the cannon fire, but instead something happened that she could never have predicted. The small island began to spin rapidly, quickly gathering too much speed to clearly see who was still standing on it. Bebe was flung off the island, as were Tom and Amanda, and Shane’s body. Tom and Amanda began to swim away, perhaps realising that they had lost the advantage of surprise. Bebe floundered in the water. She couldn’t swim, and with great effort she could barely keep herself afloat._ _

__The island came to a halt as abruptly as it had begun, and the others came into focus, each of them clutching the ground for dear life. Beckett dived into the sea and went to get Bebe, and the rest of them started bickering about what had just happened._ _

__Gerard tried to figure out which way they were facing. “The lightning hits that tree over there, so that’s twelve o’clock!”_ _

__“No it doesn’t, it’s that tree,” Frank argued, pointing in another direction._ _

__“ _Oh dear, it looks like they’re in a bit of a predicament! But while they’re trying to figure things out, let’s catch up with District 10’s Andy Hurley, who has a rather intriguing strategy..._ ”_ _

__Alicia groaned in frustration. She hated being at the mercy of the Gamemaker’s whims like this; not only did they control who lived and died in the arena, but which parts could be seen by viewers, and so how much information the mentors could have about what was going on. She watched Andy for a few minutes, but it didn’t really grab her attention. He seemed to have worked out that one wedge of the arena contained poisonous flowers which opened every twelve hours, and his strategy apparently involved leading other tributes into their path. Alicia thought it was more likely to get him killed than anyone else. She left the room and walked to the elevator. She needed to see McCoy._ _

__He was watching the broadcast of the Games in the downstairs lobby, on one of the giant screens that covered the walls. He stood up when he noticed Alicia, and invited her to sit with him._ _

__They both settled down and watched for a little while. The cameras had moved away from Andy and were following Tom and Amanda, who were arguing about which way to travel through the jungle. They hadn’t quite figured out the clock thing yet, and still thought the attacks were random._ _

__“Day three,” McCoy said, with no forewarning. “At midnight.”_ _

__“Huh?” Alicia was confused at first, because he hadn’t even tried to cover up what he was talking about with some clever verbal sleight of hand or anything. He gave her an impatient look._ _

__“Midnight,” he repeated, “On the third day.”_ _

__Alicia considered this. “Do you mean midnight at the _end_ of the third day?” she asked, and then added, “What? I’m trying to make sure I understand,” in response to his incredulous look._ _

__“Yes,” he snapped. “The end of day three. Clear enough?”_ _

__“Perfectly,” Alicia replied. _You tool_ , she didn’t add._ _

__To make things look good, they sat for another ten minutes or so, watching Zack try to cut into the trunk of a tree with his knife in search of water. He didn’t look to be in great shape. Alicia was glad to leave, but she couldn’t go back to the District 12 suite yet. Not until she’d gone to the desk where gifts could be bought, and arranged for twenty-four District 3 rolls to be delivered to her tributes. Frank and Gerard wouldn’t know what they meant, but the other three would, and they would make sure that things happened at the right time._ _

__Sure enough, once the group had received the rolls and divided them up, Bebe wasted no time unveiling her grand plan. Alicia didn’t know exactly what she was planning to do with the coil of wire she’d been carrying around since the sirens went, but she knew there was more to it than leading an electrical current from the lightning-struck tree to the sea in hopes of killing anyone who got too close._ _

__Alicia watched Frank collecting shellfish to eat after the plan had been carried out, and hoped that in another day, she would be seeing him and Gerard safe and far from the Capitol._ _

__**********_ _

__Gerard kept one eye on Frank as they trekked through the jungle. It was just before ten o’clock, and in two hours they were going to try to carry out Bebe’s electrocution trap. He wasn’t sure whether to trust that it would work or not. It sounded pretty far-fetched to him, but Bebe knew a lot more about that sort of thing than he did._ _

__They reached the huge tree that the lightning always struck at twelve o’clock. Bebe uncoiled some of the wire and wound it around the base of the tree, securing it tightly._ _

__“It must be getting close to eleven,” she said, “So two of us should take the wire now, and roll it out down to the sea. Frank, I think you and Vicky should do that.”_ _

__“I’m not leaving Gerard,” Frank said, at the same moment as Gerard said,_ _

__“I’ll go with you.”_ _

__Bebe was silent, but William spoke up. “You can’t go, Gerard. There’s not much time; whoever goes will have to be fast and be prepared to defend themselves if they run into anyone else. If you go along... I don’t want to be cruel, but you’ll just slow them down, and be someone they’ll have to take care of.”_ _

__Gerard wanted to argue, but he couldn’t deny that William was speaking the truth. His face burned with humiliation. He hated feeling useless. He wanted Frank to suggest that William go with Vicky so he could stay behind, but instead he nodded and took Gerard’s hand, drawing him aside._ _

__“I’ll see you in a few hours,” he said. “It’ll be fine.”_ _

__“Yeah,” Gerard agreed hollowly. “It’ll be fine. Just be careful, okay?”_ _

__Frank nodded, and then leaned in suddenly and kissed Gerard on the lips. “You too,” he ordered, and in the next moment he was gone, Vicky following._ _

__Gerard waited not very patiently in the small clearing with William and Bebe. “Are you sure this is going to work?” he asked for the tenth time._ _

__“Yes. Well, mostly sure.”_ _

__“Oh,” Gerard said. “Mostly. Awesome.” It wasn’t as thought they’d lose anything if the plan failed, but still, that wasn’t exactly reassuring._ _

__William was walking around the edges of the clearing, watchful and holding his trident at the ready. Gerard tried to be alert as well, but it felt pretty pointless. William had already made it pretty clear how useless he actually was._ _

__William and Bebe seemed anxious, and that made it harder for Gerard to manage his own nerves. William kept looking from Gerard to Bebe and back again. Bebe checked and rechecked the wire wrapped around the tree. There was a fair bit hanging loose from the end, and she wrapped the wire around her hands, over and over._ _

__After this had gone on for a little while, William looked at Bebe and said, “You think it’s getting close?”_ _

__“Yeah, not too long now,” Bebe said._ _

__“We should move away from the tree, right?” Gerard asked._ _

__William looked at him. “Yeah, better stand at the edge of the clearing.”_ _

__“Are you sure that’s far enough away?” The lightning bolts he’d seen were huge, and then that storm always followed. Surely they’d need to be in the next wedge before midnight._ _

__“We need to stay nearby,” Bebe said. “Frank and Vicky will be meeting up with us back here.”_ _

__Gerard knew that, but he couldn’t help feeling a need to get very, very far away. He didn’t get a chance to worry about it, though. The rustle of leaves was their only warning before Tom sprang out of the jungle, raising a short sword and running straight at William. They fought furiously, and Gerard looked anxiously at Bebe. She had pulled her own knife, but instead of using it to defend herself, she seemed to be trying to tie the wire to it, for some reason. Gerard didn’t know why; maybe she thought she could electrocute Tom with it. It seemed like a horrible idea. He never found out if that was actually her plan, though, because from the other side of the clearing, Amanda emerged._ _

__“Look out!” he yelled, pointing and trying to back away. Bebe turned, but Amanda had already reached her, had clubbed her across the head before Bebe could even try to fight back._ _

__Gerard ran. He didn’t think about it; didn’t waste time feeling bad or ashamed for leaving William outnumbered and Bebe defenceless and injured. Their alliance had always been temporary and only meant to last for as long as it kept Frank alive. Right now, Gerard needed to make sure that Frank stayed alive. No one else was going to bother about that; he had to do it._ _

__“Frank!” he screamed. “Frank!” On some level, he realised that he was putting himself in danger by making so much noise. On a more pressing level, he just didn’t care._ _

__He ran for a little while, then stopped and tried to listen. He couldn’t hear anyone chasing him. He did hear Frank, though, calling his name. They must have passed one another in the darkness, because Frank was uphill from him now, closer to the tree._ _

__“Frank!” Gerard shouted back, and started heading back the way he’d come. He didn’t get too far before the lightning bolt hit. It had been bright and overwhelming the times that Gerard had seen it before, but it was much worse at close range. Gerard threw himself to the ground and covered his head with his arms. He squeezed his eyes shut, but the light still burned. He lay on the ground, stunned, for a few seconds afterwards, and only the thought of Frank made him get to his feet. Frank would have been right beside that tree._ _

__He could see flames and hear explosions, one after another. He wasn’t sure what had happened up in that clearing, but it was something big. He kept screaming Frank’s name, but the noise was so loud he couldn’t even hear himself._ _

__A shadow passed overhead. He ducked to one side instinctively, but something hit his neck. He raised a hand to brush it away, and pulled out a small dart, the size of his little fingernail. Tranquilizer, he thought before the world melted away._ _

__********_ _

__When he came to, he was lying on a bench with his wrists and ankles strapped down, and two people were standing not too far away. They were in Peacekeeper uniforms, and that was enough to convince Gerard to try not to attract their attention._ _

__“We got the Asher girl, and Mike. I don’t think he knew anything about it. But the others got away. _They_ picked them up.”_ _

__The others. That meant Frank. Assuming he’d survived. But then..._ _

__“They’re gonna be pissed we didn’t get Iero. That little bastard. I was looking forward to getting hold of him...”_ _

__“The District 3 girl as well. Can you believe she used the lightning to short out the forcefield? I bet the Gamemakers didn’t see that coming. They’re pissed as anything.”_ _

__So he _was_ alive. Frank was alive, and Bebe too, and they weren’t here. They were somewhere else, with ‘them’, whoever they were. Gerard wasn’t sure, but it had to be better than Peacekeepers. Who knew what they were going to do to him. It didn’t matter anyway, because Frank got away. They could kill Gerard; he didn’t care. He’d expected to die, anyway, and this was better, because he would die knowing that Frank got away. He hadn’t hoped to have that comfort. _ _

__One of the Peacekeepers finally looked Gerard’s way. “Oh look, it’s Sleeping Beauty, awake at last,” he said. “We are all _very_ excited to meet you.”_ _

__*****************_ _

__Alicia sat by Frank’s bedside, waiting for him to wake up. She clenched and unclenched her hands on the edge of the chair and watched his chest rise and fall. He was supposed to wake up soon. The medic on the airship had bandaged up his arm where Vicky had cut out the tracker, and he’d also put in an IV since Frank was badly dehydrated. He’d given Frank a sedative when they picked him up, but had told Alicia that it would soon wear off._ _

__Sure enough, Frank started to stir. Alicia could see him take in his surroundings and start to panic. “Frank,” she said quietly, trying not to startle him._ _

__It didn’t work. Frank jerked violently and slumped when he saw her. “They got you, too?”_ _

__“No, Frank. We’re not... we’re on an airship, going to District 13.”_ _

__“Going to... where?”_ _

__“District 13 is still out there. You were right. The surface is untouched, but people live below the ground, and they’ve offered their help.”_ _

__Frank didn’t look convinced. “The ship?”_ _

__“Travis McCoy got that for us.”_ _

__“ _McCoy_?”_ _

__“Yeah... in the Capitol, he belonged to a group of subversives. He came up with this whole plan to get you out of the arena. The other tributes... Vicky and Beckett were in on it. Bebe and Shane as well, and some of the others.”_ _

__“Alex.”_ _

__“Yeah. They all wanted you to survive. Bebe was never trying to run that electric current to the sea; she was always planning to use it to take out the forcefield. After that, we were able to fly in and pick you up.”_ _

__Frank watched her for a minute, and Alicia could tell he was thinking over everything she’d said and trying to make sense of it. Then he started to ask a question, and her heart beat faster because she knew what he was going to say._ _

__“Where’s Gerard?”_ _

__“Listen, Frank...”_ _

__“No, where is Gerard?”_ _

__“Frank, when we came to get you... you know what it was like. It was chaos, people were everywhere...”_ _

__“WHERE IS HE?”_ _

__“The Peacekeepers picked him up. Vicky too.”_ _

__Frank gasped. Sobbed, really. He pushed himself upright and snarled, “You promised! We talked about this, we said you’d make sure he was okay!”_ _

__Alicia felt defensive at Frank’s accusing words. She could have argued with him. She could have explained that it had been impossible to rescue everyone; that they’d tried. It was the truth. Not the whole truth, though. When they’d gone in, they’d had to make a deliberate choice about who to pick up first. And they’d unanimously decided it should be Frank._ _

__Alicia met Frank’s gaze without flinching. It was the least she could do. “I’m sorry, Frank. I’m sorry for lying to you.”_ _

__“We have to go back for him.”_ _

__“Come on, Frank. You know we can’t do that. We’d be killed.”_ _

__Frank threw himself back down on the bed and turned away. “Get out.”_ _

__Alicia hesitated for a second, but Frank repeated, “Out!” and she left._ _

__Eventually, Frank might come to understand. Alicia had done what she could. This wasn’t what she’d been hoping for either. One day, Frank would recognise that she’d made the choices she’d had to make, not the ones she’d wanted to make._ _

__One day, she might even forgive herself._ _


End file.
